The King's Guard
by ink-wells
Summary: As a woman, Hermione is constrained. So in order not to be, she becomes a boy and joins the The King's Guild to access their library. Draco Malfoy is the Head of her brigade and he's all about the physical. FYI, DRACO DOES NOT FIND OUT UNTIL CH 14!
1. An Impossible Idea

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**#**

Her mother was sobbing earnestly into her hanky again.

"Dear child," she warbled. "Your head is forever stuck in those books. You hold them in higher regard than your own sibling!"

"I do not," Hermione denied, hoping to hide the latest hardback in the ruffles of her skirt before her mother noticed. Too late. Hermione resigned herself for a fresh bout of lecturing and sobbing and she wasn't disappointed in the slightest.

"Dear God!" Her mother wailed, throwing her arms up to the heavens. "Why have you graced me with this child? You could have at least made her gender match her radical ideals!"

"Now, now" Earl Granger interruped gravely. "Hermione is lovely child any parent would be proud to bear." He cleared his throat. "We just need to cut back on her reading is all."

"Not you too, father!" Hermione cried, standing so abruptly the book concealed within her dress fell outlandishly to the ground. Lady Granger visibly jerked in her seat when the thud echoed around the entire library and Hermione fought to roll her eyes. They were in the _library _for goodness gracious sake- did reading within the four walls sound like such a ridiculous concept? _Truly?_

"You sit back down, young lady," her mother hissed and growled in outrage when Hermione defied her.

"I shall not! I will not! You refuse to buy any more reading material, isn't that punishment enough?" A punishment too grave, in Hermione's opinion. The library the Earl owned was extensive but too small for a burgeoning mind. After reading every scrap it had to offer, Hermione had to resort to re-reading texts and disagreeing with the majority of it. Most of it spouted Anti-civillian law, written by archaic and close-minded individuals.

But it was interesting to see how deluded they were.

Her brother Henley, who was sure to be darkening their doorsteps soon, was a closed minded individual himself. He doted on Hermione though, but wasn't opposed to giving her a quick backhand if she dared step outside the box. Henley was currently away at Military Service, but was visiting the Grangers for the summer before he was whisked away again to Alaska.

Hermione was looking forward to his arrival. So much so, she forgot to continue her argument when the library door swung open, and Henley stood there in his uniform. Earl Granger immediately half-rose from his seat, her mother gave a half-excited whimper but they were far outclassed by Hermione, when she threw herself across the room into her brother's arms.

"Henley!" She squealed. "At last your home!" And proceeded to rain kisses down on her brother's tired face.

"Alright Hermione," Her father sighed, sitting back in the chair. "Let your old parents say our greetings too. Be sure to run along and tell Mary to start evening's dinner. Henley's back home now."

Beaming, Hermione nodded and left her dear brother to it. There was a slight spring to her step as she walked down the corridor and past a suit of armour.

"And a good day to you too," she curtseyed, and rapped her knuckles against the visor fondly. Mary was down in the kitchen, close to nodding off by the table heavily ladened with finely chopped carrots and celery. The stove was on full blast, water bubbling merrily away ready for some recipe of some sort. Hermione frowned, and instantly moved in to lower the heat of the stove. Any longer, and there wouldn't be anything left!

"Mary," Hermione said, unwrapping the chicken breasts from the paper, and putting deep incisions into the meat. She quickly followed through by dipping it in egg yolk and rolling it in some breadcrumbs. She turned back to give Mary a cheeky grin but saw the elder girl looked on the verge of hysteria.

"Lady Hermione!" she shrieked, now looking thoroughly awake. "I was to make broth with that chicken! Get away, you blasted girl! And take your new fangled way of cooking with you! Be sure to open up a shop and tell me the results, you invincible little-"

"Now, Mary," Hermione gasped, jumping away from Mary's outstretched hand. "I am your mistress, so we'll have none of that-"

"_Mistress!_ Come here and I'll show you mistress!"

By the end of it, both girls winded up at the table clutching each other and laughing. Mary was the only servant Hermione could get away with this sort of behaviour, and because of that reason, there was something close to a sisterly bond between the two. Hermione was Mary's way into the aristocracy of Great Britain, and Mary provided just a vital link into the commoner's way of life.

"Henley's back," Hermione laughed, and prentended not to notice when Mary blushed. "So be sure to cook up a heaven. I must be getting back too. There are such great matters I wish to discuss with him."

"Oh, Lady Hermione," Mary groaned. "You're still not pestering him for a new book, are you?" And a twinkle of the eye was her only answer.

**#**

All throughout dinner, Henly knew Hermione was itching to ask him something. Everytime he looked up to engage in conversation, or perhaps start one himself he would see Hermione staring adoringly at him and not concentrate on her own dinner plate.

And after all the trouble Mary went through!

Finally as the evening drew to a close, he decided to confront her about her behaviour. He pushed the chair back and excused himself, dropping his serviette on the table as he went out the room. The moment he was outside, he quickly ducked into the opposite room and waited until, slowly but surely, the dining room door creaked open behind him and Hermione cautiously stuck her head out.

She looked disappointed to find the hallway empty, and crept even further out to look both ways.

The last thing she expected, was for her overbearing brother to throw open the door from across her, and _wrench _her into the room with him. Hermione's heart stuttered as Henley pushed her in a chair and sat across from her.

"What is it, Hermione? You're trying my patience!"

"I-I,"

"Well, spit it out!"

"Did you get my book?"

The question was surprisngly meek and Henley looked up just in time to catch his sister draw an imaginary line with her toe.

"Hermione..."

"It's just that I've read everything here! And I'm half out of my mind with boredom! You promised me, Henley. Please don't let me down."

The heavy silence seemed to confirm her fears, as Hermione fell back with tears in her eyes. Henley was extremely bemused to see this burst of passion from his usually tranquil sister. His sibling was a queer one alright. Whilst other girls felt this strongly about new gentlemen in the neighbourhood, Hermione seemed to have discovered her first love in something _inanimate._

How on earth was he ever going to marry her off?

"I'm sorry Hermione, but I joined the Royal Guards because of the hand-to-hand combat not because of books. Speaking of which, you're getting too heavily invested in them. I was speaking to father earlier, and he has agreed to put lock and key on the library."

Hermione felt like her heart was breaking in two. She placed a fist on her chest and doubled over in misery.

She was crying unabashedly now.

"You're a _lady, _Hermione. Do you not gather what that means? You are not going to grow up to be a warrior or a scholar. The french and latin lessons, as well as the embroidery isn't to make you question the world and tear it apart. It's meant to be make you refined. _Subservient. _When you marry, you're husband will want you for your looks and hosting skills. Not because you can recite more Shakespeare than him."

Hermione's wails increased in volume.

"I love you dearly, sister but even you should know by now a woman is not equal to man. She is _inferior. _Mentally and physically. So let this be a lesson to you, and stop your perilious queries at once. Several suitors have already asked for your hand, and you most certainly will have a groom by the end on the month."

Henley was taken aback when the sobbing ceased almost immediately. Hermione looked up from her lap, with blood red eyes and a trembling lower lip but she managed to incline her head all the same, before arising from her seat. In proper etiquette, a woman was not allowed to leave a room unless she was dismissed, but Henley found it in his heart to let her off just this once.

"It is a pity," he murmered, stalling Hermione. "If you had been born a man, with a mind like that you could've gone far. Although the Kings Guards training is violent as they come, you could have applied for clemency and studied the books instead. The library at the Kings Court is exhuberant, by far the best in the country and perhaps the world. Every single book you could find there. It truly is a thing of beauty, but alas..."

A tear dribbled down Hermione's chin for what could have been, before she dashed it off angrily and stormed out.

That night, as thunder and lightened crashed against the walls, Hermione found sleep elusive as she twisted and turned. Tonight had provided many revelations, not least she was going to marrited off to a wealthy suitor within the month. If Henley had not spilled the beans, Hermione doubted she would have found out until the Wedding Day itself.

Her parents were untrustworthy like that.

Everytime she thought of the mystery black cloud who was her husband, her gut clenched in painful knots. He probably had it easier, since he was a man and all. Hermione spent a while drowning her sorrows, by wetting her pillows with her tears. Before fading away into nothingness, as she started blankly at the opposite wall.

What was the answer? What was the conclusion?

Unless she was _boy, _it seemed like she had no chance in the world. If she had been a _boy, _she would've been allowed to read as many books as she liked. People would have consulted her before marrying her. If she had even _been _a boy, she wouldn't have to worry about marriage in the first place. A gent could remain a bachelor until he was one and fourty and nobody would bat an eyelid.

_If only she had been a boy!_

Hermione banged her fist against the bedspread as lightening eclisped the room in electric blue. She shot upright a few seconds later, as coarse thunder rolled around the room.

What if she _became _a boy?

**#**

**YES, THIS IS A GIRL DRESSES UP TO BE BOY CLICHE. Think She's the Man. But set in Olden times?**

**I can't stress enough how your input is important to me. Click the Review button.**


	2. Mary, the hair chopping fiend

As the morning chased away the worst of the weather, it was like she was doused with cold water. Literally.

"Eek!" Hermione cried, as Mary chucked another bucket of water over her shivering form. Nude as a new born babe, Hermione parted her hair and gave Mary the evil eyeball.

"Was there no heat, to warm the water?" she asked, sarcasm loaded in her voice.

"There was no time. You have to be ready in ten minutes." Providing no further elaboration, Mary ushered Hermione out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around the girl. There was no point in making her suffer more than necessary- the future had enough of it as it was.

She first prepared the corset, throwing it over Hermione's busom and stringing it tightly at the back. The tighter it was, the more fashionable it became. But Hermione gave a little "_Oof!" _and Mary didn't have the heart to tug it any further. Next came the petticoat and outer dress, quickly followed by Hermione's hair being woven into a french braid, dotted with a few choice bluebells.

Mary retreated as Hermione admired her hair in the mirror. Still heavy with moisture, her hair lay flat across her head in a rather fetching manner.

But it still didn't explain why she was preened so early in the morning. Hermione did not suspect the worse, and thereby lay her final error.

"Hermione darling," her mother desperately said over the breakfast table. "Say something."

Hermione could not think of anything to say. Henley was right. He had _always _been right.

"Do not pressure the girl," her father said easily. "Let it sink in she is to be wedded. She will come round soon enough."

Hermione was paralysed in shock although why, she couldn't quite tell. Logically, she had debuted two years ago and was still a marriageable female. It was only to be expected she had suitors, and that one, if not all would drop down on one knee and propose to her. But the whole point of courting, was so she could gauge their company. Assess the gentlemen to see if her nature complied willingly with his. But it seemed in this case, the middle man (or ahem, lady) was missed out altogether and he had gone straight to her parents to ask her hand in marriage.

AND HER FATHER HAD SAID YES!

Oh, the merlarkey of all merlarkeys!

She would simply have to meet the gentleman and say no. Yes, that was it! He would have to see sense the moment Hermione stood her ground and reassured him marrying her was _not _a good idea. There would be so many disadvantages, he would run away screaming the moment she was done with him. Feeling satisfied her reasoning was strong enough, she let go of her shocked airs and instead calmly asked to meet the fellow in question.

The answer she got was unexpected enough.

"This is brilliant!" her mother enthused. "He's waiting for you in the parlour room right this very minute!"

"Oh," Hermione blinked. "Right."

She did not wish to leave breakfast unattended, but found there was little choice when no-one stepped forth to rescue her.

Her heart spasming anxiously against her chest, she stopped walking down the corridor and reached out to push open the parlour room doorknob.

_There should be a chaperone for this, _Hermione glumly thought. _But since I'm good as betrothed to whoever is on the other side of the door, I guess they thought it un-necessary._

They couldn't have been more wrong.

Hermione bit back a scream as a large stoutish man blinked back at her. There was no other word for it. He was _crammed _into his suit that buldged over muscles and body fat. He had folded his arms behind his back in a fake display of modesty. He was young- but utterly and disparingly vulgar. And Hermione forgot the speech that was on the tip of her tongue.

"I am Gregory Goyle," the man held out a beastly paw.

"Ah yes," Hermione reluctantly accepted it.

She squeaked in alarm when he turned over her hand all of a sudden and kissed it.

Of all things ghastly!

"I hope you will become my wife," the beast dared to utter, tightening his paw around her delicate hand. Hermione could do nothing more than nod, before shaking it drastically as if in hope of getting rid of a wayward bee.

"I am afraid you are very much mistaken sir. I have no intention of marrying so early." After a pause she hesitated. "I appreciate your interest though."

She attempted a wry giggle, so he could join in with a guffaw and make the situation a hell of a lot easier. But it seemed he saw no amusement in the matter and would not walk away empty handed. Undetered, Goyle stepped closer into Hermione's personal space and took a whiff of her hair.

"You are my _wom-mun_ now," he said condescendingly. "Your behaviour is intolerable."

He continued critiquing her.

"Your face is pleasant but unordinary. Your hair smells exquisite but can make wild boars turn tail and flee. Your chest is of no importance but is adequate enough to grab handfuls off. Your rear could do with some plumping. On the whole, you're a boney lass."

"_Excuse me?" _Hermione reared back to evaluate his speech and found she couldn't do so, because he had grabbed hold of her chin and was turning it back and forth as if to assess her portrait.

She did the unforgivable.

Hermione batted away Gregory's hand as if it was nothing more than a pesky fly. A sharp ring sounded in her ear and it took her several moments to figure out she'd been slapped.

And then all hysteria broke loose.

As blood rushed to her cheek, Hermione stumbled back yelling. Oh, how she screamed!

"You cretin!" was an outraged cry, swiftly followed by a "Help me!" She fled behind an armchair and flung cushions as he advanced.

At last she was brave enough to run for the door (not at least, because all the cushions had run out!) but was stopped in her tracks when Goyle caught hold of the back of her dress.

His grip was firm.

"Get back here, you wench!"

_RIP!_

The back of her dress tore as she sprinted to the door and threw it open. Her mother and father guiltily retreated as she threw them a scathing look and ran past.

Bad things of all Blasted, they had been there from the very beginning, listening to the struggle! Hermione managed to retain her countenance until she reached her bedroom. There, she finally let her anger loose by ripping off the remainder of her dress. Still mad enough to duel a viper, Hermione sat down heavily on her bed.

There was so many things to think about, some to be puzzled over whilst the rest discarded, Hermione didn't even know where to begin.

She clearly couldn't dilly dally here any longer though. If she did, she was at risk of being married off to that uncouth fellow and face a life of servitude. Her feminine pride allowed no such thing and Hermione set about throwing all her dressed on the bed to decide what to pack.

_I cannot pack any, _Hermione thought in despair as she slid down the wall. _They are of too much bulk and would slow down the speediest of getaways._

Now if she had been a man-

Hermione came up short. She had to take heed before her thoughts ran away with her and planted dangerous seedlings in her mind. She was a woman. Hermione could not shy away from this. The way she went on sometimes could shame an amazonian she-wolf.

But...

Would it not be better, if she improved the plight of womankind by fighting _within _the corrupt organisation itself?

The wealth of possibilities under her fingetips the moment she declared herself a man...

_The wealth of information._

Hermione's fingetips itched for a blade to hack off her willowy tresses. The impulsiveness was giddy as she stood to her feet and wobbled over to the door.

"Mary!" she hollered. "My monthly cycle has started up again. Bring some bandages!" And in rare afterthought- "And a blade!"

Mary did both of that, hurrying up to her mistress in fascination and partly because her masters had encouraged her to do so. Earl Granger and his Lady were filled with reluctance to enter Lady Hermione's quarters themselves, so had sent Mary instead.

On Lady Hermione's insistence, Mary unravelled her petticoats and corset and stood back, wringing her hands.

"Lady Hermione, whatever on earth are you doing?"

"I'm bandaging my chest- can't you tell?" was her only answer.

"But pray I ask..._why?"_

_"_I appreciate your concern Mary, but it is a matter of no great importance to you."

"_No!"_

Mary fell to her knees in disbelief when Hermione picked up the small blade and cut a lock of her hair, so it fell to the ground gently. Perhaps this wasn't what she thought it was- perhaps Hermione had finally seen some sense, and was cutting off a lock for Gregory Goyle's keepsake. Oh, how that would make him happy so! Having a part of his beloved trapped in a locket he wore around his neck.

She scurried forward on her hands and knees to pick up the lock, but was quickly distracted by another, _longer _piece of hair falling by her hand. Mary immediately slapped her palm over it, and was curling her fingers to pick it up, when it started _raining _locks.

There was no other description apt for such a wondrous, but horrific act.

"Lady Hermione, no!" Mary scrambled to her knees again, and gained leverage from Hermione's knee. As she stood up, the full damage smacked her right between the eyes.

Hermione's hair was _butchered._

The hair that been so very neatly plaited this very morning, had been shaken free to thunderous effect. Lady Hermione had a _fringe _now! And her ears were exposed because all of the hair that normally covered them had been hacked off. From the front, her facial feautures had taken on a boyish quality. A straight nose. Scowling lips. And beautiful butter would melt eyes. Why if Hermione _was _a boy, it would be the prettiest one in all of Derbyshire, if not England.

Mary gasped as Hermione insistently nudged the blade forward, into her servent's hands. Understanding suddenly flooded her, as Hermione finished binding her chest tight and tucked the very tip into a busom. With her chest bound like that, Hermione _did _look like a boy. A terrifyingly beautiful boy with bandages wrapped around his chest. But the hair Hermione was unable to reach at the back of her head ruined the picture.

If Mary accepted the blade, that meant she accepted Lady Hermione running away.

_As a boy._

It was brilliant disguise, Mary had to admit. If a Lady went missing, they'd never think to look for him.

A beautiful boy.

But _Lady Hermione..._

Her hand shaking, Mary reached out to accept the blade. She was a dab hand at chopping vegetables, so she could tidy up the back of Hermione's head with little effort. Her mistress was exasperating, fierce, slightly wild-tempered but even she didn't deserve to be forced into a life of abuse and maltreatment.

There was too many of those stories out there, as it was.

"Where are you headed?" Mary asked, as she put the final touches.

"The King's Guild. One way. No pit-stops."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: 3/4 of this chapter was handwritten (yes, handwritten!) before I decided to type it up. Just to let you know, I haven't handwritten a chapter since a _very _long time. So please review, and thank you for the 3 that did!**

**NEXT CHAPTER: Hello familiar faces! (Besides Goyle) Expect to see Harry and Ron pop up too.**


	3. A Day of a Life

The courtyard was silent. Birds gathered in the middle. Trees swayed in the wind. There was never a more serene picture until a big ball of loathesome energy destroyed it.

Out of a nowhere, a figure clothed in dark robes somersaulted in the air and landed right in the throes of webbed feet. The birds cawed indignantly before launching into the air as a mass force.

A sword was drawn out of its scabbard and held at Neville Longbottom's neck. The early sun glinted off it.

"Show-off," muttered Ronald to his companion, and stifled a yawn as opposed to a chuckle. That job instead fell on his best friend, Harry. The sun was barely up, breakfast seemed a distinct possiblity and now they had a new oppressor at their hands whom favoured early morning practices when he wasn't nitpicking their weaknesses.

Neville was always an easy target but Malfoy whoever-his-name-was was taking it too far.

Nobody dared to uprisde against him though.

Their new torturer had appeared one morning as silent as a fog descending over the moorlands.

Nobody was any closer to finding out why he had been sent here, and his entire arrival was shrouded in mystery.

Suddenly he was _there. _An enigma to be reckoned with. A young man in his twenties, with pale blond hair and haunting grey eyes. He seemed to come alive on the battlefield and his barbed comments off the field was just as poisonous.

It didn't take long for Harry and Ron to dislike him.

Malfoy, almost as if sensing the mental deterioration of some of his pupils, shouted "_En garde!" _forcing Harry and Ron to hastily fall in place.

"You two! At the back! Do you think your footwork requires any improvement?"

Feeling certain it was a trick question, Harry guess "Yes?" just as Ron defiantly said "No." Harry and Ron shot each other startled looks as Malfoy went in for the kill.

"Which is it? Wait, in fact I don't want to know. Trolls will have an easier time of being mistaken for a beauty, before you two are recognised as swordsmen. You dishonour this regiment and your name."

"That bulbous-!"

"Easy," Harry held Ronald back from breaking rank and making a beeling for their leader with sword in hand. Although the aggressor, his friend would surely end up the worst of the pair when Malfoy began his "defence" tatics.

"En garde!" Malfoy shouted again, and this time Harry and Ron made sure they were pitch perfect.

"Forward step, LUNGE!" he showed the group assembled by darting out disarming Neville completely. It was a dirty tactic but succeeded in demonstrating Malfoy's skill yet once more. He enjoyed humiliating his pupils usually towards the end of every lesson, so this meant only one thing. The lesson was coming to an end.

Bringing the sword back to the _En garde _position again, Malfoy bowed once until his long hair was touching the ground. He straightened up and sheathed his sword in one smooth movement.

"You are dismissed."

**###**

After some grub down them, Harry and Ron felt like they were able to face the long day ahead of them.

Or more specifically the hour of Politics that awaited.

The daily routine of a potential Guardsmen was always the same. An early morning start with vigorous training always woke them up. After a quick break, where most Guardsmen grabbed food or bathed, they were guided into The King's Library.

The books weren't the King's personal stash, but just a namesake. Two to three hours of stifling lectures followed in an otherwise appealing setting before Lunch, and an even more gruelling afternoon session with the swords. A Guardsmen went to sleep tired, but happy. Harry personally prefered the swordfighting to the books and Ron probably felt the same.

One person who seemed truly in his element in both fields was Malfoy, answering yet another question right.

"You know, he's more subdued than usual," Ronald noted as the pale blond hair at the front of class remained bowed over his books.

"It's probably because of Newcomer's Night," Harry replied. "It's today isn't it? When all the commoners who want to join the Guild step up to fight? I don't think Malfoy's lost a single battle."

"The poor bugger," Ronald said sarcastically. "He must be so exhausted, being picked as an opponent. I think the only times he's not up is when some wealthy Baron wants his son to enter the King's Guild with as little hassle as possible."

"Ye," Harry interjected. "Then they put someone like Neville up. One strike, and it's all over."

"Money means everything."

"Money means everything."

They both looked at each other and burst out laughing, much to the dismay of the lecturer and the fury of Malfoy.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he unravelled his head from the books and impulsively let his hand twitch for the sword blade lying at his feet. Harry noticed and stopped laughing but Ronald continued.

"Ron!" Harry hissed. "Ron!"

Slamming his palm against the desk, Malfoy reached down for his scabbard and stood up. Harry half-expected him to swivel and send it whistling through the air but no such thing happened when he merely refused to look at them.

The last thing Draco heard as he strode out the door was Ronald's laughter.

**###**

When Malfoy reappeared again, it was well past sunset. Afternoon sword training classes had been cancelled in order to make way for Newcomer's Night.

The courtyard he'd trained in this very morning had been swept clean by brambled brooms. Stones had been placed in the clearing, to form a circle. This circle was ringed by several fires and spectators were already gathering, several spotting Draco.

It was Newcomer's Night. Yet again he had been called up to fight thirty/forty opponents or more. They were all commoners, and to decrease their chance of getting in, the batallion's best swordsmen was summoned to end their plucky path.

Draco didn't kill them. He just left them for dead.

An afternoon had been dedicated to his welfare. The King sent word to provide the best care possible. Maids slipped into his chamber to offer him relief or finely linked chain armour.

Draco always refused both. He fought bareback with just his undergarments on. They were all men here. Surely they understood the freedom of movement and fresh breeze to cool the sweat slicking his skin. All he needed was his sword.

At the edge of the courtyard, Draco stripped down to his prefered credentials and walked into the circle, sword heavy in hand.

Almost immediately, the baying began as spectators jostled into one another to get a better look. One of them was going to be his first competitor and they didn't even know it.

Draco gestured for the baying to quiet so he could speak.

"Who will step forth as my competitor?" he challenged, scanning the crowd. No-one came forward.

"I will," came a brazened claim and the crowd parted with a gasp, for a tall youngster.

_Mother's milk still wet on his face, _Draco despairingly thought before gesturing him forward with his sword. Some-one pushed a replicate sword into the youngster's hands and he was urged forward with cries of ecouragement and thumps on the back.

"Good Luck!"

"May God be with you today."

"_Yer can do it, boy!"_

No-one cried out for him, Draco wryly noted.

"I make a point of finding out the name of a person before a battle," Draco said from behind his _en garde _position.

The youngster, with tumbling brown locks looked surprised, but saw no harm in divulging his name.

"Errol. People call me Errol."

Without warning, Draco struck, forcing Errol to bring his sword up at the last minute and block the par. The grip on his sword was weak and gait unsteady. With one assessing blow, Errol lay bare before him. He was fighting an amateur! The sapling before him had never handled a sword, yet thought that was sufficient enough to enter the combat ring. Was this what the King thought his best swordsmen should be dallying his time on? With a roar, Draco struck again, Errol managing to block him once more but sinking to his knees in the process.

The youngster looked terrified. The entire audience had gone silent.

But the battle was barely beginning.

"Do you admit defeat?" Draco asked through gritted teeth.

He insistently pushed his sword forwards, until both blades pressed into Errol's neck. Somewhere in the crowd, someone gave a terrified whimper.

"Well, do you?" he pushed even further, baring his teeth in a feral way. In the half-lit darkness, he looked like a tiger. The flames of the separate fires, casting in at every angle and giving Draco an orangey tinge. Unbeatable. Unbreakable.

"Yes!" Errol cried in desperation. "Show mercy!"

Draco scowled and withdrew the blade, much to the relief of his spectators watching on. They were starting to get more animated, feeling certain the show was over and Errol would return to safety within their midst.

But as Draco turned, the unmistakable _swish _of a sword sliced the air and buried into his back. Draco tethered, his surprised eyes catching a familiar green in the crowd before Errol gave a bark of success.

Fury washed over Draco at this unexpected betrayal. Ignoring the pain, he reached over his head and pulled out the blade with a wince. Turning, he threw it at Errol, who managed to catch it clumsily.

The terror was back.

"There wil be no leniency this time," Draco promised, before twirling his sword with his left hand and cutting Errol shallowly on the cheek.

First blood drawn at both sides, Draco lunged in again and cut the drawstring holding Errol's jerkskin up. The crowd laughed when Errol went to shield his privates, and ended up tripping on the pantaloons around his ankles and sprawling head-first to the ground.

Feeling malicious, Draco gauged two deep marks into Errol's buttocks before placing his foot on Errol's back and holding the sword high.

Rage told him to kill. Adrenaline told him to kill three more people. Anything but show the weakness his injury now brung.

The only thing that stopped him from driving his tip through Errol's chest, was the sheer cowardice before him. The youngster lay vulnerable in front of all them, tears racking his shoulders up and down.

Disgusted, Draco stepped off his quarry and swung his sword in an arc, causing several people to jump back.

"Who will step forth?" he roared, and people edged away even further. The wound had added to his strength instead of detracting it. The people were wary of placing themselves in imminent danger. Everyone was too scared to look him in eye except for two dimwits he considered his pupils.

Ron and Harry (the familiar green he'd seen earlier) pushed their way to the front, bringing a boy trapped in the middle of them. Oh, how he fought! Like a she-cat fighting other alley creatures, he hissed and clawed at the other two with a vehemence that even surprised Draco.

"He will!" Ronald offered, before pushing the thin, trembling boy out into the circle.

Immediately the boy turned heel and tried diving headlong into the crowd, so he could be comfortably shielded again but the crowd moved closer together, fortifying a barrier. The boy bounced off one of their chests and fell backwards into the circle, quite near Errol's body.

Spying a glimpse of what awaited, the boy squeaked and turned pleading eyes on Ronald and Harry.

_Please_, he seemed to beg. _Save me._

Harry did nothing more, than give a thumbs up.

Draco fixed the boy with a penetrating stare.

"What is your name?"

"Her-Her-"

Hermione caught herself in the nick of time.

"Hermes."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Was that a cliffhanger you were expecting? Next chapter sees exactly how Hermione ended up in this position before chapter 5 resumes the battle between both protagonists. Bear in mind, Draco's injured and pissed. And bear in mind, Hermione's never picked up a sword before, let alone fought a master swordsmen.**

**Gah, I am so excited to be bringing this to you!**

**Thank You to:  
>-Musette Fujiwara<br>-krista04  
>-forbiddenluv<br>-bushyhaired-american-nerd  
>-Vampire Blood Kitten<br>-Artemis Saggitarius Malfoy**

**As ever, reviews would be lovely.**


	4. Alleyways aren't always Dead Ends

_**One day earlier...**_

Mary guided Hermione into the town centre, shortly at the crack of dawn. Having raided Henley's room whilst he was out practising his archery, she had emerged triumphant with two sets of pantaloons and a flimsy white shirt. Mary had tutted, and handed her a thicker shirt instead, knowing full to well if the heat got to much to bear, the flimsy shirt would mould to her every curve.

They waited until the entire household was quiet, before sneaking out.

"Shall I stay until the cart arrives, my Lady?"

Hermione shook her head, wishing to be alone before the journey embarked. Every few days, a cart trundled through town, collecting some hay and vegetables from the poor. This was how they paid their tax to the King. The cart then travelled, without stopping, until The King's Guild itself, before continuing it's way to the castle.

This was Hermione's plan. As the cart stopped to feed it's horses, and gather produce, Hermione would vault over the back and hide under the hay. To do that, she needed to be alone and inconspicious and Mary being there with her, would acheive none of that. In her eye, Hermione saw Mary waving her Lady off with a loud "_Cooee!" _thereby attracting the attention of everybody in the market.

_Definitely _not what she wanted.

So Hermione bade farewell, and walked down the street in hope of finding some shelter. Soon the temperature rose, and the sun beat relentlessly down on the Sunday crowd. Hermione watched everyone from under a birch tree, and still found the heat too much. Her shirt was sticking to her bandages, and the back of her neck was coated with sweat.

Thank God, her hair was short!

She still couldn't get used to fact her head felt so much lighter now. And she didn't have to wake early in the morn, just to comb out the tangles. Already a few hours, and she was seeing the benefits of being a boy! Her laugh drew reaction from girls selling ribbons at the bottom of the hill. They glanced up at her, and smiled cursively before going back to bartering customers.

Hermione blinked. Perhaps it was best for her to not laugh at all.

In the distance, a cart arrived over the horizon, chundling down the carriageway in fashion. "Oh!" Hermione stood up from her look-out, peered once more to confirm who was coming before flying down the hill, as the hounds of hell were chasing her themselves.

"Mister!" one of the girls called. "Perhaps you can buy a ribbon for your girl?"

Hermione shook her head _no thanks, _and steathily crept her way to the abandoned cart, pleased her guise was working already. The horse gave a soft whinny as she approached and Hermione calmed it down by placing a finger on her lips.

"Well, perhaps you can wear it yourself!" The girl cried, scorned. "You have the face for it!"

Hermione froze, her hand half out-stretched to pat the horse on it's muzzle. She sent a panicked gaze into the inn, the cartsmen had just disappeared into and decided it was now or never. Throwing all tact into the wind, Hermione scrambled onto the back and tucked herself under bundles of hay already been collected.

The smell was dreadful, and it was sweltering under here but Hermione forced herself to remain quiet as the cartsmen re-emerged and dumped three sacks of apples beside her. Harumphing about the bad collection, the cartsmen pulled himself up behind the horses and clicked his teeth. The horses immediately set a canter, and Hermione had to brace herself against the sides to prevent being thrown out.

After a while, the rocking began to grow on Hermione and she found herself being lulled into reluctant sleep.

**###**

"Why you little- GET UP!"

Hermione whined in her sleep. If only she could sleep a little bit more before going to french-

Something whacked her heavily in the stomach, and Hermione woke up gasping for breath. "Owwww!" she clutched her tender belly and rolled around, hoping that would alleviate the pain for a while. In between mid-roll, Hermione cracked open her eyelids and caught a sight no girl should see. A man with a hooked nose, leaning down so his face was only an inch away from hers.

It almost seemed _intimate._

"Aaargh!" Hermione shouted, scrambling upright and head-butting the man in the face. Another thwack was earned for her troubles, and Hermione hopped off the cart, cursing and stumbling.

"YOU DARE TO CLIMB IN WITH THE KING'S-!" The man looked purple in the face unable to complete the sentence.

"Look-"

"YOU COULD BE BE ARRESTED FOR TREASON FOR THIS-!"

"I-"

"BEAT IT!"

Hermione skittled back, startled he was unwilling to hear her end of the story. As a Lady, she was unused to people cutting across her speech, especially when she wanted to deliver an important one like an apology. But he had to understand-! She was going to join The King's Guild! She was loyal to the King and wanted to learn more about books, so she could improve the land they lived on.

But the man only had to raise his stick one more, and Hermione understood.

There was to be no apologies today. If Hermione did not remove herself from the situation, he would not hesitate beating her black and blue. Hermione skarpered, quickly loosing herself in the throes of people closing their stall down for the night. The sun had sunk in the sky, and Hermione felt disorientated about how _vast _the place was.

If the market back home was anything to go by, this was _tenfold _that. And there was so many people!

Unknowningly Hermione had been transported from a humble town to a _city. _A _vast vast _city. Spinning, with her arms out wide, Hermione gave a whoop of exuberation. At last, she was nearer to her dream than ever before and everything had gone smoothly!

Grinning, Hermione asked the first person she saw where The King's Guild was.

"It is of no use asking me, sonny-" the old woman hurried past, holding a basket of rotten merchandise.

Undetered, Hermione tried again, this time altering the question to a man lying on the side of the road, under a table.

"Excuse me, have you heard of The King's Guild?"

The man gave a loud snore.

Sighing, Hermione placed her hands on her hips and surveryed the people rushing past, only interested in their own cause. It seemed no-one was willing to help a lost lad, searching for his home! Had she gotten it wrong, and climbed on the wrong cart? Maybe she was nowhere _near _The Guild and was stranded in a foreign city altogether!

Somewhere in the distance, loud jeering broke the peace.

"Fight us!" they jeered, to the unheard person. "Fight us!"

Hermione abandoned her post, and started following stragglers as they joined a semi-circle around the brawl. She was too short to see around the broad shoulders and large behinds, so she tactfully got to her hands and knees and _crawled _to get a prime-time viewing. When she got to her destination, Hermione was surprised to see two young men back to back, warning them not to come any closer with outstretched swords.

They were dressed in ceremonial robes, and sported ginger and black hair. The black-haired one kept squinting, as if his eyesight wasn't any good.

"Come on!" The crowd were jeering, and one large man spat at the hem of their robes.

"We come in peace!" yelled the shorter one. "We only wished to keep ourselves to ourselves. We have no desire to fight."

"Then why have swords?" the man, now the spokesperson of the group gestured at the swords they were brandishing. For a second, Hermione thought they were going to be foolhardy and tuck their swords back into their pouches, but sensing the man meant ill, they kept themselves armed.

"The Guards are not welcome here," growled a hag from the back. "Begone!"

The Guards? _The Guards? _Hermione had to bite back a well of excitement in her throat, as she finally discovered the two young men belonged to The King's Guild! So she _was _at the right place then, and thankfully nowhere else. But why were the people being so hostile? Surely they should recognise anyone who joined, was sacraficing their life for their country.

Hermione needed to rescue them. But how? She did not know how to fight, and she doubted they would listen to reason.

Perhaps _she _had to sacrafice herself, to prove she was worthy and be noticed.

"Don't hurt them!" she cried, and pushed herself up from all fours. All eyes turned increduously to her, including the young men, as she ran into the opening and shielded them, arms thrown wide. As she turned to face the crowd, it didn't register what she'd done until the full ferocious glare of the people bore holes into her.

"What are you doing?" the man scoffed in disbelief. "Are you defending _them?"_

"Yes!" Hermione cried, spying an alley out of the corner of her eye. "And if you follow me, I will show you just how much!"

Ronald and Harry broke their defensive stance, and glanced at each other. Who was this ruggamuffin? He looked like he could barely take on a babe, let alone a whole load of wrathful people.

And he actually seemed serious!

"But-" the boy announced a condition, and they exchanged wary looks. "I only want one of you to follow me. If I settle the qualm with you, I want the rest of the people to leave them be."

The spokesperson considered this, with a crackle of his knuckles. "Fine by me," he smirked, and mockingly swept his hand aside so she could lead the way. And what luck! He was brazenly heading into a dark alleyway, surely the stupidest of choices! There was no aid there, and certainly no short-cut to escape.

Only a dead-end awaited.

Hermione spied the blocked path with a gulp, and spun on her heels, nearly falling back when she realized the man had moven in close. He cracked his knuckles again and peered down patronisingly at her.

"Ready to get the living shite beaten out of you?"

"WAIT!" she cried, flinging out a hand. "I have money!"

"What's stopping me from beating the living shite out of you _and _taking all your money?" he roughly demanded.

"Nothing," Hermione replied meekly. "BUT-! If you let me be, I will _give _you all my money and even my shoes. I will also guarantee you have at least one warm meal each day for a month. I swear."

"How do I know you're not lying?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, if I don't keep my word, you have express persmission to beat the living shite out of me if we ever run into each other again. Which is pretty likely."

Hermione held her breath as the man considered her proposal, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Finally deeming what she said, was in fact to be true, he put his knuckles away and instead extended his hand. "I'm Grawp," he said politely, shaking her hand as skillfully as a giant shaking a small hand could. Hermione was slightly un-nerved at how quickly he had taken a liking to her, and withdrew her hand pretty sharpish.

He was harmless now though.

"Can you do me another favour?" she asked, sensing he was now willing to do anything.

"What is it?"

"I want you to push me against the wall. Just so I get a few bruises mind. And then would you be so kind, to run out of this alleyway, acting heavily injured and call off your people?"

"I can do better than that."

Hermione watched, with an eyebrow arched as he claimed he could do better than her suggestion. What exactly was he proposing? That he _deliberately _injured himself so her story would be more believable?

"No, Grawp! Don't!" Hermione cried, horrified when Grawp raised a massive fist and punched himself in the eye. The skin immediately split, as blood vessels burst under the skin and he automatically slapped his hand over the darkening bruise.

"Now the small matter of you," he grunted, shoving Hermione into the wall beside her and causing to fall as a lump. Only a slight push, and Hermione could already feel the skin scraped of her hip and the side of her leg. She rolled over just in time to see Grawp lumbering out of the alleyway entrance, holding a hand comically over his eye, and balling, "EVERYBODY! SQUAT!"

It must have worked, because she heard people panicking and climbing over themselves to leave. "Grawp!" she weakly cried. "You forgot your money!" He'd even forgotten her shoes, which had flown of her feet into the darker aspects of the alley.

Wincing she rolled around again, so she could press her forehead against the cool ground. What a day. From a lady treated like a princess, she'd been transformed into a filthy layabout who battled giants with words rather than brawn in 24 hours.

But Hermione could safely say, she'd had more excitement today than any other day of her life. Reading books in a library couldn't compare to this! Actually feeling the adrenaline racing through her as she confronted one mishap after the other.

"HEY!"

"YOU THERE!"

The worried shouts from the opening of the alleyway spurred Hermione to move a couple of centimetres but no more. She listened to pounding footsteps, before hands grabbed and turned her over, carefully cradling her in case she had any broken bones.

Two boys swam into a view, peering at her worriedly. A black-haired one and a ginger.

Hermione smiled and sat up a little, trying to get up unaided.

"I'm alright," she rasped, her voice sounding low. "I'm fine, you don't need to worry-"

"Wow, did you fight him all by yourself?" the ginger asked with awe. Hermione didn't answer.

"He did, Harry! You know what that means?"

"Yep," Harry nodded at his friend behind Hermione's back. "It means he actually stands a chance against Malfoy."

Hermione was still brushing herself off, blissfully unware of the two boys plotting her demise until one came at either end of her, and grabbed an elbow.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked alarmed, as they guided her out of the alleyway.

"You're coming with us."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Omo! I don't know what's happening to me! I just sat down and typed this in one go :) What do you think? Has this chapter been the best so far? Lol, don't answer that. A couple of you, have been telling me this story resembles Mulan A LOT. I lost count after the third one :) Which is crazy, because I've never even heard of Mulan until a week ago. BUT...but, I went and watched it (2009 chinese film- WOW!) and I was soooo glad that I did. It had a similar plotline (you know, girl dresses up as boy, enlists in army, yada yada yada) and I really really like one scene in it that I will in-cooperate in this story.**

**Oh dear...what a long AN!**

**Sorry?**

_Thanks to:_  
><strong>-krista04<strong>  
><strong>-forbiddenluv<strong>  
><strong>-BubblyRose23<strong>  
><strong>-Anonymous (sorry, you didn't leave a name :)<strong>  
><strong>-Lissie1019<strong>  
><strong>-Artemis Saggitarius Malfoy<strong>  
><strong>-Vampire Blood Kitten<strong>


	5. Newcomer's Night

**FULL CHAPTER NOW UP :)**

"Get up."

Hermione remained hunched on the ground. _This has all been a mistake, _she reasoned as the scary man kicked the sword out of Errol's fingers and closer to his. The scary man was extremely youthful, but even his glowing hair and lumionous grey eyes couldn't account for the lack of warmth in his eyes. Hermione had watched him in action- very nimble and fluid-like. As he danced in a sequence of warrior moves, there was no sound to the beat of his feet.

_What was she doing? GO! GO! GO!_

Instead of lunging for the sword, Hermione ran for a chink that had just just opened up. The crowd scattered, as Hermione bludgeoned past and looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

One of the golden rules of Newcomer's Night, was that battle was always engaged in the "Sacred Circle."

If one were to break it, the other was free to do so as well.

The crowd shivered as Draco Malfoy took one step outside of the circle. He took the step as if a thunderbolt of lightening would spear him at any moment. Cautious. But when the skies remained as clear as ever, he regained confidence and took the final step to abandon the "Sacred Circle" altogether.

Hermione stopped running, and stopped over, panting. The gates that separated The King's Guild from the lower City had been locked for the night. Harry, Ron and her had been one of the last people through, before the big locks began churning and the mechanisms locked it in place.

So where to now? Should she take leave at morning, and never look back? Or put her plan into action this very night?

Hermione straigtened up and looked back. Before screaming when she realised Draco was running right at her, with his sword set in a spearing postion. At the last minute, instinct kicked in, and Hermione jumped aside as Draco rushed past, and wheeled, like an angry moose.

His nostrils flared as he caught her scent.

And then he was at her heel once more.

Hermione shrieked as she ran back to the Circle, using the bystanders as weaving posts and searching for a piece of high land she could scramble up to. It was well know if a wave of raw power came after you, height could be your only saviour. She spotted Harry and Ron, and deciding it was their mess in the first place, she ran and hid behind them.

Draco came skidding to a halt, and placed the tip of his blade against Harry's breastbone.

"Move."

"Gladly."

The look of petrification was still on her face as Harry stepped aside to reveal her to the enemy. Draco had caught her out in a pooping position, and he didn't let that go to waste when he kicked her in the shoulder, and sent her sprawling to her butt.

Smelling victory, Draco weilded his sword high, higher than ever before- before noticing something disturbing.

"Where's your sword?"

There was no sword in her hand. Had she even stopped to pick it up? This victory would be counted null, if his opponent was not as well armed as him and whispers would arise he fought unjustly. Although he was greatly reluctant to let his sword go, Draco let it clatter to his feet as he sized the boy up.

Hermes looked barely over twelve. No, scratch that. Sixteen.

He wore ill-fitting pantaloons over bare feet, and a thick shirt normally deserved for winter. In other words, Draco couldn't understand the boy. As a fighter, it was essential to keep mobile and unrestrained whenever you went into battle. The last thing you wanted was to weild a sword, or even a fist, with layers upon layers holding you back.

So what was this boy playing at?

"I don't have it." Hermione mentioned, refering to the sword.

Draco shook himself.

"No matter. We will duel in hand-to-hand combat. You may remove your outer garments if you so wish."

He pointedly glanced at her chest, and automatically the bandages around her chest felt looser. Panicked, Hermione slapped a hand to her chest and furiously shook her head _no. _Take of her outer garments? Pah! Chance would be a fine thing! If her identity was discovered earlier than she wanted it- then she would only have herself to blame for being so reckless.

"Fine. Then we shall combat each other as we are."

Draco aimed a blow at her face, which she only just about managed to deflect when she crossed her arms in front of it. The blows didn't stop there. They kept coming at a ferocious intensity, almost too _much _intensity that was beginning to crumble her first line of defence. Using her petiteness as an advantage, Hermione rolled out of the way and quickly got up, running.

Hot breath on her neck.

He was right behind her.

_He was right behind her._

Ducking to the left, Hermione didn't realize she was almost upon one of the fires surrounding the Sacred Circle, until the crackle of heat singed her hands. The tip of the flame caught hold of her shirt, and started burning the fabric at a startling pace.

"I'M ON FIRE!" Hermione screeched, before dropping to the ground like a leadweight and rolling around until the flames went out. Panting, Hermione gazed up at the night sky before her. There was so many stars ablaze tonight, but unlike the fires, they were far away and peaceful. She sometimes liked observing the stars out of her balcony, back when she was Lady Hermione because of the mystical aura of the devine.

She was hot. She was cold. But out of nowhere-

Draco Malfoy came hurtling, and crash landed on top of her body. Every single limb he tensed over hers, she felt. The feel of his hot flesh against her singed bandages was too much. He was hot, she was hot, the feeling of hot was getting too much, too much to bear aaahhh...

His cool hair trickled on her face and she closed her eyes in wonderment.

Draco was using too much force in pinning her down, but it didn't matter anymore. The heat was gone. Instead all she felt was all of Draco, on all of Hermione Granger. She opened her eyes to catch Draco in the middle of scowling down at her.

"You lose," he whispered before slumping down into her neck.

"No. _I win_," she mumbled back, delighted her plan had worked.

All that running and chasing Hermione down had only weakened his body, after so much blood loss. Even now, the wound was still bleeding as she placed two hands on his shoulders and pushed his body off hers.

Hermione was the winner.

**###**

"I can't believe it," Ronald said to Harry. They were both in their sleeping quarters, shared by their entire brigade and it was quarter past midnight. "I can't believe Hermes actually beat Malfoy. I think he's my new favourite person now."

"Sssh," Harry hissed, glancing at the bed next to theirs. Hermes shoulders were moving up and down shallowly, as if they were stuck in a light sleep that any second could be ruined. Harry didn't want Ronald's musings to be the one to disturb their champion.

Hermes gave a slight snore.

"Where's Malfoy anyway?" Harry asked, glancing at Draco's empty bed. The covers were still ruffled from this morning.

"Probably still in Infirmery. He lost quite a lot of blood."

The snoring had gone quiet.

Ronald continued. "I don't think Hermes life is going to be easy from now on though. He would always be known as "The One That Got Away" and Malfoy wouldn't hesitate placing a bounty on his head. In a way, we should be glad he came along. Now we won't be the scapegoats all the time."

"But I feel bad though-"

"_Ssssshhh!" _someone shushed them from the other side of the Quarters, clearly annoyed their sleep had been disturbed. Quickly mollified, Ron blew out the candle beside his bed and turned over, so his back was facing Harry and his front was facing Seamus Finnegan. Harry followed Ron's example, and turned his back on Ron to face Hermes instead.

Hermes shoulders were rim-rod straight.

And then darkness claimed Harry whole.

**###**

By dawn, Hermes bed was empty and everything neatly folded away. For a while, there was panic the new _protegee _had ran away, but it was quickly quenched when one of the boys spotted Hermes by the lake and ran to tell all.

What was even more surprising, was come morning, Malfoy was waiting for them out in the courtyard.

He looked displeased to see all of them and barked orders like a dog. He did not wait for them to practise one manoevre, before jumping onto the next and shouting at anyone who got left behind. Neville was one such casualty. Ronald wasn't far behind.

It was safe to say Draco Malfoy was in a bad mood, more per usual. It also seemed like he was keeping an eye out for someone, and when that someone did not appear, he sent Creevey on hot pursuit.

"Hermes! Hermes!"

Hermione looked up, startled as a young boy of fifteen summers came screeching to a halt.

"It's nearly the end of lesson. Where have you been?"

"I-uh.."

Hermione had been unable to go sleep last night, and had decided to start the day early instead. Maybe it was because she knew Malfoy was after her, or maybe it was the promise she made to Grawp. But she found herself kindling a small fire in the courtyard to roast a few berrynuts. It wasn't exactly a proper meal, but Hermione was assured as she got to know the The Guild more, she would be able to sneak food out no problem.

It was a lonely trip to the lower city, and it was even harder to pin-point Grawp.

Finally, as the last rays of sun crept over the horizon, Hermione returned humbled. Not wanting to face any questions if caught sneaking back in, she chose to wander the grounds until she stumbled across the lake.

The lake was dark. Dark as her opaque thoughts.

It was comforting.

And so she spent the rest of the morning, sitting cross-legged by the shore and lazily confronting the sun. But how to put that in words?

"_Come on. _At the very least, let's not be late to Politics!"

Creevy guided the way, over long dewy grass and then a small narrow walkway. The walkway directly lead them to the The Kings Library and Hermione had to pause at the threshold to let it all sink in. For the first time since setting out yesterday morn, it felt like it was _worth it. _This was what she had been envisioning. Rows of books, stacked to the roof in long wooden shelves. There were crooks and crannies and even rosewood tables that were impressive.

The chairs were stiffbacked, but cushioned nicely. All in all. It was a nice place to learn.

And there was only one seat left, after Colin scurried off, leaving her.

Uncomfortable, Hermione nodded at her classmates as she walked to the front and pulled out the chair. It was uncharacteristically quiet as she sat down and glanced around in vain.

She attempted to smile at the boy next to her, and in shock, realised it was Malfoy.

He wasn't looking at her. Oh no. He was staring straight ahead with a dark look on his face. That look remained until the lecture was well under way, and then it was replaced by a fierce concentration, as if he wanted to soak up every word the lecturer said into his brain.

Hermione didn't care. She had some learning of her own to do. Every question asked, her hand shot up a fraction of a second faster than Malfoy's. Every correct answer caused the entire class to look at each other and realize they had a brainbox on their hands.

Malfoy finally had some competition.

And he didn't like it one bit.

"Oi! You!"

Hermione jumped a foot in the air, as she hurried out of class. She turned around to find Draco bearing down on her, sneer fixed on his lips.

"Where were you this morning?"

"I-"

"An integral part of This Guild is sword-training. Now, the enemy isn't going to wait for you to have a nice nap, before he kills you. That is why attending morning practise sessions are _crucial."_

"I wasn't-"

"And you were the only person to enter The Guild last night. People want to see your skills. Or else there would be talk."

"What talk?"

"You'll see."

The grin he shot her suddenly seemed sinister, and he walked away before she could query more. It was lunch-time now, and Hermione was totally at a loss. In class, she knew were she stood but outside, she had no friends and was alone. The feelings of loneliness were strife, before a familiar pair of heads crowded around her and she couldn't be anymore glad.

"Harry! Ron!"

"We missed you today," Ron said, slinging his arm around her shoulders. "Now you _have _to eat lunch with us."

And all was good till that afternoon.

**###**

The afternoon strolled around too quickly, in Hermione's opinion. As they were already out in the courtyard, Hermione was surprised when she suddenly spotted Draco matching out of the walkway, with a gang of boys behind him.

"Oh no," muttered Ron. "He's already here."

She watched confused, as Harry and Ron stood up and brushed the crumbs of their robes. Her confusion grew when they reached down to pull up their swords. And suddenly it all made sense.

This was a sword-fighting session, much later in the day. And whatever happened, Hermione had to refuse.

"You." Draco fixed Hermione with a glare. "Up."

He threw a sword which she barely caught.

In fact, she didn't catch it. The moment Hermione saw the sword coming, she clammed up and stared at it looming closer and closer, until the hilt of the sword struck her right between the eyes. Most of the boys behind Draco laughed, and Harry looked murderous.

"If you don't pick that up," Draco minced. "You will wave your last chance of saving yourself goodbye. Don't look at them. They're not going to help."

Hermione snapped her eyes away from Ron, and turned red at the thought of being told off. That was it. Nobody was forcing her to fight him, so she was going to walk away. See how he liked that!

"_Pick it up."_

"Okay," Hermione squeaked, and tried to lift the sword of the ground. It was heavier than she expected, and Hermione nearly fell flat on her face. The boys laughed again and Hermione found humiliation was creeping into her every pore, as Draco turned to address the crowd.

"_This _is what beat me last night?"

The crowd tittered.

"Look at it! It can barely stand on its two legs! _It _doesn't deserve to be here."

The crowd gave a resounding cheer, and Hermione was suddenly hurt. They weren't cheering because they loved a good old barney, but because they didn't _want her here. _She was the outsider, the newbie no-one wanted. Feeling the urge to cry like a baby, Hermione gritted her teeth and put her back into it. She weilded the sword and took a swipe at Draco's smug face but he was too quick.

Too quick for her anyway.

He spun under her blade, and cauterwheeled behind her. She hadn't finished brandishing the sword, and he had kicked her, square in the back and she went sprawling on her face. Tears sprung to her eyes, when her breasts started aching. Fiercely sensitive, Hermione had never expected them to hurt so much after an impact.

They were still laughing, when a tear slipped down her chin.

Letting her hair hang low, Hermione picked herself up with the sword in hand, and took another demented lunge. "Aarrrggh!" she yelled as her battle cry, spinning on her heel and striking the air behind her. The last thing she saw was Ron's outstretched hand before Draco kicked her square in the pelvis, and she went down, crying all the way.

Some boys broke off into a loud "oof!" empathising the pain Hermes was going through.

No boy could survive through a kicking like that, and _not _acquire battered jewels.

Some even shielded their crotch, as Draco swept the crowd with his gaze. He didn't look triumphant, exactly, but villified.

"Yesterday was a fluke!" he shouted. "This boy has no right being here. He needs to be cast out!"

He turned his gaze upon her.

"Pack your bags. And leave."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Let's erase my last author's note, and put this one up :) I'm reposting chapter 5, just so those who read half of it before can read the rest now. I also didn't thank anybody last time, and that bummed me out. So let's rectify that, shall we?**

**Thanks to: **

_-krista04  
><em>_-sopp  
><em>_-bushyhaired-american-nerd  
><em>_-Thegirlwiththebooks  
><em>_-ThePowerOfTheTree  
><em>_-REDRydingHood  
><em>_-forbiddenluv  
><em>_-Arty :)  
><em>_-Vampire Blood Kitten _and finally...  
><em>-LilGami,<em> who reviewed 6 days after everyone else and actually reminded me of this story. It was your review that made me put half of chapter 5 up, and the rest today. Thank you!

**LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS. NEXT CHAPTER IS BATH-TIME! HEHEHE**


	6. The Lady of the Lake

Fortunately for Hermione, her stellar perfomance in Politics counted for something.

Professor Binns was adamant to not let her go. They'd only shared a room for an hour, but the Professor knew a bright spark when he saw one. So the moment he heard Hermes, the commoner, had been cast out he personally waddled into their dormitories and guided a shocked, and confused Hermione to his office.

He let her sleep there for three nights, inbetween day meeetings with high ranking individuals. They were all a blur to her. But in the end the verdict was the same: Hermes could stay if he improved his warrior skills.

Did Hermione agree? Did she disagree?

She couldn't even remember eating, but she must have, because she was still alive.

"And to think I was actually concerned about him," Hermione muttered in a daze, and was snapped out of it when Prof. Binns said, "Excuse me?"

They were back in his rambshackled office, over two steaming bowls of stew. Outside, the sun was just setting for the night and owls hooted in the distance.

"Oh, nothing Professor," Hermione said hastily, spooning a meaty chunk into her mouth so she wouldn't have to talk. This was her safe terrority, it was a shame she had to darken it with thoughts of a certain blond-haired boy. No, _man. _Her position had been secure before he had to go challenge her in a duel and totally wipe her arse on the floor.

The more she thought about it, the more she fumed.

All she wanted to do was excel in her studies, and fight wars with wisdom rather than blood-shed. But yet he had forced her to leave, and if Professor Binns hadn't swooped in that night, she would've been forced to walk out those gates and never look back.

And now, with her anger still unresolved, Professor Binns was telling her she had to rejoin everyone else.

"Do I have too?" she whined, letting her stew splatter from her spoon back into her bowl again. "Can't I stay for another night?"

"No," Professor Binns said sternly. "I cannot give you preferential treatment just because I took a liking to you, boy. You need to go back there, head held high, and show everyone out there who doubts otherwise why you deserve to be here."

"That's easy for you to say," Hermione muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh no- ummm. I guess I could go back. I have two friends already, Harry and Ron, and they're really nice."

"See!" he cried delighted, glad he chose to mishear. Hermes did not have the most burliest of physiques, but with his quick mind and lithe body, he was sure there was a deadly combination in there somewhere. Forget King's Guard. Being a Secret Assasain was where it was at.

"Hurry, child. Take this bed. By the time I crack open my eyes, I want thee gone!"

True to his demand, Hermione was gone by the time he cracked open his eyes at quarter past five.

**###**

"Is that..._Hermes?" _Ron stopped adjusting his trousers and stared into the distance. Before Harry could tell him to grow a pair, and stop imagining things, the spitting image of their lost friend walked into the tent, and continued brusquely to his bed.

Harry's mouth fell open.

Neville squeaked and trod on his own foot.

Seamus whooped.

The most bizarre of all their reactions however, fell on a certain dude whom promptly ran over to Hermes and _smashed _him to his chest. Ronald's expression was blissed out as he hugged Hermione to his chest, resting his chin in a rather intimate way on her head. He didn't care she was squawking horribly against his naked chest, or Harry would think he'd been replaced in his affections. All that mattered was Hermes. Being here. In his arms.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Uhh...Ron?"

"Hermes!" Ronald anguished, finally releasing his death-grip on the poor fellow and holding him out at arms length. "You're still here! I thought you were a goner, for sure! You are the bravest bravest man I know."

Hermione gasped as he buried his nose into her hair again, and fought back the fear Ronald would feel her chest against his torso. She'd bandaged herself extra careful this morning, and used an extra swathe between her thighs incase her moon-blood started up again. Hermione was not a heavy bleeder, nor did she suffer heavy cramps, but those four to five days of monthly bleeding were the most high strung of her life.

It didn't help she was feeling moody.

And broody.

"Get away from me!" she pushed the semi-naked man away from her grasp and held in her initial urge to shout at him. That would not do. That would not do at all.

Hermione went back to her bed and sat down, feeling sure being shook like that didn't do any favours for her womb. Oh God, she could feel the first droplet of blood between her thighs anyway...and there was no other woman to share her tales of woe with. The moment she opened up to the boys, about the _true _pain of womanhood, they'd run screaming for the moors.

Forget being unsheltered, there's a woman waiting back home!

"Uh, Hermes? What are you doing?"

Hermione felt that was a rather redundant question. "Sitting," she snapped.

"No no no no no. You can't be sitting around on your _day off. _The lads are heading over to the Lake for a long over-due wash-up. You need to come too. These sessions are where we get to _truly know each other. _If you miss it, you might as well be a girl. Too afraid to do anything."

Hermione found it hard to focus beyond the insult. Oh Goodness, she tried, but she felt the coil being wound up tighter, and tighter until she couldn't help but explode.

"I'M NOT A GIRL!"

She stopped herself from going any further, when she looked up and realised Ronald, Harry and Seamus had all paused un-dressing themselves and now were _undressing _her instead. Even the boys further back had gone quiet, staring curiously at the new boy who had gone red in the face. Ronald stopped assessing her and shook his head.

"No need to worry, mate. Trust me, _nobody _will mistake you for a girl."

"Yeah," Seamus nodded. "You need breasts for a start."

_Ouch._

No!

No ouch!

This was meant to be a _good thing._

Harry had gone oddly quiet. But he didn't say anything when Ronald, unable to keep away from Hermes any longer, placed his arm around her shoulders and forced her out of the tent. A band of them, maybe six in total, frog-marched all the way to the Lake until loud splashes told them they'd already been beaten there, and the boys were taking advantage by water "bombing."

Hermes blushed when she noticed Draco Malfoy taking off his tunic in one smooth movement. He hadn't noticed their party, and Hermione was glad for this as he ran and dived into the water. He resurfaced, spluttering, but took a moment to drag his hand through wet hair that caught the sparkles of the sun. Beads of water clung to his chest, and Hermione gulped sinfully.

She didn't feel too good all of a sudden.

There was too many naked bodies. Naked bodies of the wrong kind. Did they expect her to be naked too?

"Come on!" Ron shouted, exhilarated as he bent down and pulled his trousers to his ankles. "Join us!"

"Oh God no," she moaned, and turned away from the scene extremely bashful. Harry fell directly into her path, as he took hold of both shoulders and steadied her.

"You can join us later," he offered, and sat her gently on the shingle shores next to a snail den. She didn't reply. Hermione kept her eyes on her knees, as she heard clothes being flung off at a hurried place. And then shingles raced down the beach, as the boys chased after them and into the sea. Their cool moans of delight reached her ears and Hermione thought it was finally safe to look up.

Bad idea. _Bad idea._

All of them were waist-deep in the water, some scrubbing their backs, others splashing playfully at each other, but all of them, yes even Neville, was an adonis in their own right. Maybe they didn't think anything amiss, but countless years of training at the crack of dawn had put defined muscles into their abdomen. Biceps. Calves.

They were men in their _prime._

Seamus spied his room-mate up on the shore, strangely the only one to keep fully clothed and waved him over.

"You have to try the water, Hermes! It's so fresh!"

It sounded tempting, but Hermione refused to take her shirt off. The argument was settled when Draco, who was nearby, looked up from scrubbing his pecs and spotted her sitting fruitlessly on the shore. He shot her a look of disgust, and pointedly scooped up a handful of water and let it trickle down his head, tipping back his head leisurely as he did so.

_This is amazing, _his body seemed to say.

_In your face, _his eyes betrayed.

Hermione couldn't hack it anymore. She got up, and walked away.

**###**

It was a long few hours before anyone returned. And with what commotion they did too. One minute, Hermione was lying on her bed and staring up at the canvas, the next disgruntled yells and hollers rounded the corner.

Lazily, she sat up and primly stared at the boys as they filtered in, one by one.

It seemed everyone had forgotten about her for their interest, and was surprised to see anyone waiting for them.

"Hermes!" Seamus frowned, wiping his neck with the palm of his hand. "I thought you got in the water with us."

Hermione smiled tightly.

"Did you have a nice time?"

Feeling that was invitation enough to talk, Seamus threw himself upon Harry's bed (carefully avoiding his own) and faced her with elbows on his knees, and interwined hands.

"You don't understand! It was _so so _good. We would've stayed longer if Neville hadn't been stung by a jellyfish."

"Hey!"

Neville had just hopped in, being supported by Harry and Ron as they guided him to his bed. The sting looked nasty, and Hermione felt sympathy melting her heart when she how puffed up it was to the point of bursting. She couldn't help it. The smile she'd been so against earlier, was fighting to break through and take over her face.

"Ah, it burns! It burns!"

"What are we going to do?" Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"I read in a book, urine helps," Hermione said off-handedly.

Just as she expected, the reaction was explosive. Neville looked close to passing out as Ron went to cup his crotch, Harry jumped back from both of them in disgust and turned around to spot Seamus doing something even _more _disgusting.

"Seamus! You're dripping on my bed!"

Seamus gave a wicked grin. "I know."

Hermione didn't have a chance to regroup, before Harry had tackled Seamus so fiercely, that Harry's bed skidded along the floor and crashed into Ronald's. Even then the momentum didn't slow down as Ronald's bed inched forward into Seamus's. Ronald watched in horror as his two friends rolled and tussled, across _all _three of their beds in a display of male machoism.

"Oi! Not my bed!" he growled, before joining in with the battle.

Hermione smiled fakely, everytime a new member entered the tent and shot a high eyebrow her way. She had no part to play in this, and Neville was getting steadily worse in the corner. Although she _had _read urine was a benefactor in jellyfish stings, thankfully her extensive reading provided, a more practical answer- Vinegar.

But how to get it...?

And she as _still _itching to go in the water, even though now she knew there was jellyfish in it.

"Neville," Hermione gasped, holding his arm around her shoulders. "If this goes untreated, it could result in mortality. You need to come to the kitchens with me. _Now."_

Neville really wasn't in a position to argue, as she half-supported him out of the tent, across the courtyard, and with Neville's mumbled directions, through a small door to the kitchen. Fortunately there was a maid to hand, and she instantaneously knew what to do when she saw Neville's leg. Hermione stayed long enough to know he was going to be alright, before she exited the scene and walked down to the Lake.

In the moonlight, it looked even more tempting.

The waters were shallow and undisturbed, because all the boys had left it to return back to the tent. This was a golden window of opportunity. She could take of her clothes, take a skinny dip in the water all of five minutes, and run back before anyone even noticed she was missing.

But to do that, Hermione would have to disregard her intelligence.

And Hermione wasn't ready to do that yet.

Sighing, Hermione turned her back on Potential Death, and returned to the tent with a glum face. She wanted to bathe so bad, but the threat of being stung by a Jellyfish and in such an open environment was keeping her away. Harry, Ron and Seamus had stopped fighting and had separated their beds at a respectable distance. They acknowledged her with smiles and waves, but Harry did so with a frown.

Hermione later understood why.

All the candles and kerosene lamps had been extinguished. Light snores were filling the tent, when a light hand was shaking her awake. Harry loomed over her and he clamped a hand over her mouth before she could scream.

"It's me," he hissed. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Hermione relaxed slightly.

"We need to get out of here. I need to show you something."

In the dim light of the stars, Harry and Hermione crept out of the tent in tiptoes and circled it around back. Hermione, yet to explore the grounds fully, was surprised to see the tent backed into a wood, with tall thin trees waving in the wind. They didn't look ominous, but rather magical. Harry came to a stop and shook his head, when she looked back puzzled.

"I can't come any further. But if you keeping going and take a left, there's another, smaller lake just beyond the Ash tree. Not many people know about it and you can use it any time you want, without being worried about interruption."

How did Harry know her dilemma?

Hermione stared at him in wonder, and nodded once. No words needed to be exchanged because Harry understood her problem perfectly. Did he suspect her true gender? He didn't _look _like he did, but then she would have never suspected him being capable of staying awake long enough to tell her this. She waited until he disappeared from sight, before she turned to face the woods again with a gulp.

Her feet glided on the sparse undergrowth, as the trees crackled threateningly.

But nothing jumped out at her. She reached the Ash tree with little problem, and turned left just like Harry said.

And her breath got whipped away.

_It was beautiful._

Perfectly lunar with a clear sheen, Hermione had stripped before she knew it. Her toe dipped delightfully in, and then she waded in until the water reached her stomach. Her nipples arched delightfully, when a cool breeze ran over them and Hermione shivered.

Behind her, a head broke through the surface.

Hermione paused, in the middle of scrubbing her arm clean. Total panic punched her in the stomach, when the paddling reached closer to her and stopped just right behind. She couldn't look back. No, she _wouldn't _look back. Harry had lied! There was someone here, and they had totally interrupted. Her panic wasn't dying any less, when a cool voice broke the silence.

"Who are you?"

_It was Draco Malfoy._

What was he doing here? She'd seen him in the Lake just hours past! How did he get here? _Why _did he get here?

"Turn around."

No!

If she turned around, he would see her. He would see _all _of her, minus the stuff below the waterline. But that didn't matter, because normal boys didn't have breasts. Normal boys didn't have two peachy mounds attached to their chest with dusky pink areolas. Normal boys didn't have _peaked _nipples. If she turned around, it was game over. Draco Malfoy would discover her identity and cast her out forever.

Just as his hand lightly touched her on the shoulder, Hermione took a deep breath and submerged herself.

She could imagine Malfoy looking around for her, before her breath ran out and she re-surfaced anyway. Purely on instinctual mode, Hermione kicked away from her spot and broke through the surface, just behind _him._

Draco hadn't seen it coming.

He was still searching through the water with a penetrating gaze, when Hermione clamped her elbow around his neck and forced him to her chest, so he couldn't look back. And oh, how he tried! He stopped trying though, when he realized something more fundamentally important.

"You're a woman!" he gasped.

He could feel her breasts against his back. Her skin pressed against his.

He needed to see her face. _NOW._

Hermione had to bite back a squeak when he wrapped two hands around her elbow and attempted to force it off him. In normal circumstances it would've worked, but Hermione was working on adrenaline and she didn't let go. Using her other hand (and maybe all her might) Hermione forced Draco's head under the water and held it there, until his struggles grew a little weak.

He was still powerful though. And the more she held onto him, the more she risked slipping.

When Draco finally burst free into the surface, and took in big gulps of air, she was gone.

The woman was _gone._

**_###_**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Golly! Some big plot developments there. Harry might or might not know Hermes is a girl. Draco now, _definitely_ knows there's a girl on camp, but who? Ron embraces boy love. And Neville gets stung by a jellyfish. **

**I would also like to add, this is where your reviews come in. I'm starting to lose steam for this story, and I need you guys to help me. Anything would do. A compliment. A cuss (ok, maybe not a cuss) Some possible improvements that can be made, or plotlines coming up. I might not update in a while. I don't know.**

**But for now, I want to thank the last batch of reviewers.**

_-ThePowerOfTheTree  
>-mUmaRhz<br>-Arty (you my lovely, deserve more than a thanks. A cyber cookie? For reviewing more than once?)  
>-krista04<br>-biggest fan (It's true. Most of the stories I like are "Magic" too. But I thought let's make it AH this time.)  
>-REDRydingHood<br>-forbiddenluv  
>-smileylol (Draco is an arse. I'm not taking that away. But he's a redeemable arse. My favourite kind!)<br>-akira m (Well he nearly discovers her gender here, and he's more pissed than anything. I imagine him calling the entire brigade to strip? LOL)  
>-Vampire Blood Kitten (LOL, girl power all the way!)<em>


	7. Male Bonding with Draco

**WARNING: IF YOU'RE EATING SOMETHING, PUT IT DOWN. **

"I'M NOT A GIRL!"

It was rare for Harry to experience such a moment of clarity as he did then. But as Hermes yell died down, the echo of it kept going until the pieces of the puzzle began to _fit _and he got the bigger picture, right there in the tent.

Hermes had always been a tricky one to figure out. The first time they had met, Hermes had challenged a giant into following him into an alleyway. What seemed like seconds later, the giant came galloping out with a black eye and told everyone to _scarper. _

Harry had fallen into the trap of thinking _Hermes _did it. Like Ron, he had been overawed such a petite boy- too petite for his age- could overcome such a big monster like that with brawn rather than brain.

Because Hermes _did_ look too intelligent for his own good.

But he had ignored that little voice, and helped Ron guide Hermes into The Sacred Circle, where surely he would be impressive again. The boy did little to live up to expectation- running around like a frightened rabbit, and looked so utterly feminine doing it he was surprised no-one else caught on.

Suspicion grew when Hermes could barely lift a sword in that mini-challenge Draco set, the day after.

And then he had vanished, and Harry thought that was it. The boy who was so like a girl had quit, and they would never ever see her, _him _again.

But now he was being proven wrong, right to the very core as Hermes sat down on the bed, and exclaimed those four little words that would change _everything. _Of _course _she was a girl! How could he not have seen it before? Maybe Ron suspected too, but the lanky boy would deny the sky was blue if it wasn't shoved in his face every morning when the sun came up.

So when it came to the Lake, Harry already half-suspected Hermes wouldn't want to go in.

_And he was right._

If that wasn't conclusive proof, then what was?

It wouldn't be the same as spying on Hermes having a bath, say, but Harry held in the urge when the opportunity came knocking by. It was well past midnight when he shook Hermes awake and guided him to the second, secret lake not many people knew about. If Hermes _did _have anything to hide, then there was no risk of it slipping free there.

What Harry hadn't counted on was Malfoy.

Now Harry didn't know much of Malfoy and didn't particularly care when the older boy slipped into bed late at night, on occasion. But tonight it was a persistent worry as he lay awake until one, if not both came back at the same time. A fresh patter of footsteps alerted him to a nocturnal soul, and the tent was being flapped open and a small boy slipped inside.

It was Hermes!

Biting back a wide smile, Harry let his head flop back down on the bed and faked sleep, when Hermes slipped into the bed beside him. For a second, something cold and slimy brushed against his foot before it vanished, as Hermes hid under her bedclothes. Harry frowned with his eyes closed. If his foot hadn't mistaken him, Hermes was still sopping wet. Why hadn't the girl paused to dry herself before she put her clothes on?

His curiosity was even more piqued, when a small wail came for direction.

It wasn't loud enough to awaken anyone- but it was scared enough for Harry to realize something _big _had gone down.

"Psst-" Harry was about to say, before a gust of wind tore open the flap of the tent and suddenly someone was _there. _The silhouette hovered for a moment, before quietly taking the candle beside Neville's bed and stepping outside to light it. This time when the candle came back, the flickering light cast no doubt to who it was.

"GET UP!" he roared, kicking the side of Neville's bed so hard, it upturned and spilled it's surprised occupant out.

"LIGHT THE CANDLES!" he barked, shoving the candle violently into Neville's hands and standing back, with his fists clenched.

Everyone was starting to stir awake. Harry shot up in bed, and realized with dread Hermes was still hiding under his shaking blanket. If his intuition served him correct...then Hermes was in _big _trouble. Ron looked displeased to be awoken so harshly, and squinted at everyone in mock accusation. But he quickly straightened up when he realized Malfoy was surveying the room with ire and perhaps..._fear _in his eyes.

"EVERYBODY! GET UP!" he barked again. "I WANT ALL OF YOU TO STRIP! NOW!"

"What?" Seamus broke in. "_No. _This isn't a training exercise! You can't just demand us to strip, with no reason whatsoever, just so you could please your little boy fantasies."

That's what Seamus _wanted _to say, but in reality he whimpered and said, "Okay."

"NO!" Harry burst out, panic creeping up his throat. "It's NOT okay! We demand reasons, Malfoy."

Draco looked like his head was going to explode, a ticking vein in his forehead leading Harry to believe he was going to yell the answer. But when it came, his voice was dulcet and very mellow. "There's a woman." Many didn't hear him and asked him to repeat louder, but Harry had heard the first time and he sat there in shock. This was the confirmation he needed- that Hermes truly was a girl- but the way it had been confirmed...Harry didn't like it at all.

Did Malfoy see Hermes _naked?_

That wasn't fair in the slightest! Surely as the first boy to piece everything together, he deserved the right _first? _His blood began to boil as the blanket beside him began to shake even harder as the remaining boys looked at each other, and in falsetto voice repeated, "_A woman?"_

_"_You're out of your mind, Malfoy," Ron said, shaking his head. "Why would you be looking for a woman _here? _Unless you're implying one of us _is _a woman?"

The boys didn't like that much as Malfoy paused a second too long to deliver his opinion. They started shouting him down when he strode over to Neville, who'd just finished lighting the last kerosene lamp and pulled his tunic over his head. Neville was caught by surprise- he was still recovering from the Jellyfish sting- and so lost his balance and landed on his _flat _chest.

"Come on!" Dean was shouting. "Did you _honestly _think Neville was the girl? Use your brain!"

Draco snarled at the insult (even though he knew Dean was right) and turned to face the rest of the crowd. "I followed her prints right into this very tent! Unless what I met was an _apparition _I demand all of you strip! Now!"

"He's out of his mind," Ronald muttered, this time to himself. Harry, being right next to him, caught every word.

Seamus, one of the very first people to follow Draco's orders, stopped stripping and placed his hands on his hips. He was nude and wasn't very pleased about it. Especially when he looked around and realized everyone was gawping at a place they had no-place to look. Stripped off his dignity, Seamus found it very easy to tap into his indignation and anger.

"I hope you have a good look, Malfoy," Seamus turned so his man-hood saluted Draco. "Coming in here, hollering about females, just so you could get us to strip and live out your fantasy. God, if you had wanted it so bad, the least you could've done was ask in private. Then I would've happily let you stroke him."

Everyone edged away from Seamus.

"Yeah," Neville said waveringly, sticking out his chin. "If picking on me in Practise is your sexually suppressed way of saying you want me, then _you don't know how to flirt!" _He reached out and pulled his tunic closer to his chest. "Quit ogling at my chest! You can't look. You can't touch."

Draco narrowed his eyes meancingly. "_Excuse me?" _he hissed.

Harry lept on the bandwagon to lay the final blow. "Get out of here, you devil!" he shouted. "And don't come back!"

**###**

Of course, come morning everyone knew there was a big punishment in store after a scene like that. The entire group had banished their trainer into the cold, wild night and he'd obviously roughed it somewhere treacherous because there was twigs in his hair, and he kept scowling more than usual.

He didn't complain or accuse them of anything, but instead punished them by making them balance on their heads for an hour. A couple of the boys fainted, and the rest of them collapsed in sucession when the blood rush got too much. Neville was the first to fall, quickly followed by a pale Hermes. Draco went to pick on the former, but quickly remembering the "sexually suppressed" comment, ordered Hermes to bring water to the group instead.

Harry watched Hermes go, and deliberately lowered his legs down so Draco would send him after her.

"Potter!" he shouted. "Help the sapling with the water, will you?"

Harry had struck gold.

He made quick work tracking his friend, and for a while watched Hermes gracefully struggle between the Lake and land, filling up the bucket with cupped hands. But he could tell her mind was elsewhere, and not on the task at hand.

"He's going to keep picking on you, you know." Harry said, startling Hermione enough to lose her concentration. She fell on her butt in the water, as Harry strolled to help her. "And that's not ideal when he suspects a woman is masquerading as a boy in the batallion."

"_What?" _Hermione gasped, not bothering to hide the inflection in her voice. She sounded so vulnerable then...so cornered, so _frail._

Harry had to know. He _had _too!

"You don't need to worry about me," Harry said, bending down to cup a handful of water of his own. "I know you must have your secrets, and you can tell me when you're ready. But first we need to worry about, Malfoy. He knows what he saw and a group of boys telling him he's homosexual, isn't going to change his mind. He'll be still looking out for her, but for now we're in the clear and still have a slight advantage."

Harry _knew. _Hermione didn't know what to do. She felt like crying because her secret had been discovered early but Harry was talking like there was still hope. Did that mean, even if he _did _know he was going to pretend he didn't? He wouldn't reveal her gender to anyone?

"Hermes. Right now Malfoy's alienated himself from the group. No-body's going to be too friendly, not even his lackeys. You need to befriend him, by actually accepting his version of events and then introduce the idea that it wasn't _you _he saw, but a kitchen maid."

"He didn't see me!" Hermione squeaked.

Suddenly a seed of doubt was planted in his mind.

"You mean...I got it all wrong? You're not the woman he spoke off?"

There it was. Harry's true opinion laid in front of her. Should she admit it, or continue denying it until the truth eventually came out? Harry seemed like a potential ally she could trust, and she didn't want to risk loosing a friend over lies and deceit_._

_"_It was," Hermione said resigned. "But he didn't see my face."

Harry's puzzled face suddenly broke off into a brilliant smile. "That's brilliant!" he enthused. "It will be much easier to convince him about the kitchen maid thing now! I-"

"OI! WHAT ARE YOU TWO GOSSIPING ABOUT?"

Harry and Hermione both looked up startled, towards the top of the inward slope and saw Draco there, disapprovingly glaring down at them. Even then Harry didn't miss how Draco gave them both a surreptitious once-over and lingered particularly on Hermes slender ankles. Harry coughed and stepped in front of her.

"Implement the plan today," he side-ways hissed. "Stalk him if you have too, but don't rest until he believes there is no woman in camp. I, on the meantime, will arrange one of the maids to pay him a _visit. _If you follow what I mean."

Hermione followed _exactly _what he meant. And she was so glad, there was someone who knew her true identity beside her, helping keep it a secret. It felt like a burden had been lifted of her shoulders, and suddenly she didn't feel so alone.

**###**

Harry strolled into the kitchen and lingered there until a young maid bustled past, carrying a sack full of flour. Normally he would have blushed approaching a woman, and putting forth such an indecent proposal, but _this _woman erradicated all self-doubt. She seemed very sure of herself, and her sexual appeal. The moment she spotted Harry, she hollowed out her cheeks and made sucking motions. Then she pointed at herself, and more specifically his groin.

Horrified, Harry shook his head and coloured.

But gathering courage, he wandered over to where the young maid was now counting out cups of flour and put forth his idea.

Any self-respecting woman would have denied him on the spot, but this girls' eyes seemed to light up from within. "I can do that, and much more!" she enthused, picturing herself creeping up behind a certain blond warrior and pinning him to the bed, and _taking _him. Harry was half-repulsed. All he had asked her to do was to hug Malfoy from behind, and let him feel her breasts at the back. (Hermes had said that would work, somehow) and sultrily whisper..."_This seems familiar."_

Harry had been full of questions, but he held it in because it would be impolite to demand more.

And then Hermes would track Draco down, and attempt to befriend him. Particularly because people suspected their friends less, and particularly because it would stop Draco picking on Hermione as much. It was a win-lose situation. And Hermione had to _win_, if she had any hope of surviving.

As instructed, Hermione had been stalking Draco the entire day. Lessons and training were the easiest, because it was mandatory they were both _there. _But it was outside of the times, when it became more tricky.

Currently Malfoy was in the _Swords _room, where anyone came to sharpen their sword or do a little polishing. Hermione was right outside, just when a young maid slunk around the corner and disappeared through the half-open door. Curious, Hermione crept a little closer and peered through the gap, just as the dress of the young maid hit the floor.

Draco was still unaware. He was sitting down, back facing the door and polishing his sword on his lap. He lifted up the sword to examine how well it was shining, and caught the reflection of a naked woman. All he saw was buttery-cream breasts, and a slim flat stomach before two arms eclipsed around his shoulders and she _plastered _herself to him.

Hermione told herself not to giggle. She hadn't found the situation funny when _she'd _been going through it.

But as the girl's bottom waved perkily in the air, she had to bite down on her knuckles to stop herself from laughing. Just like Harry instructed, the girl whispered three words in his ear that hopefully would turn him less suspicious against everyone else.

_It was working! Bless you, Harry!_

And then the girl _had _to go ruin it. "My name's Lavender," she said conversationally, and then unwrapped herself from his stiff form. Hermione watched increduously as the girl _laid _down on the bench, and spread open her legs. Wide.

"And I want you to take me."

Draco told himself _not _to look. But he heard a muffled gasp at the door, and he _had _to turn that way. In turn he was greeted with a sight, that no man had to see. Her legs were spread open wide, yes but the dainty rosebud that were designed to welcome manhoods everywhere, was speckled with this horrible looking fungus infection.

Her natural juices were intermingling with the pus from the boils, and all in all, the odour was _horrendous._

Draco automatically was put of womanhoods for _life._

"GET OUT!" he managed to say, before he started retching in a nearby lavatory pot. Lavender, looking offended, snapped her legs close and pulled on her dress easily as she got it off.

"Suit yourself," she sniffed, and flounced out into the corridor and past a frozen Hermes.

"Don't even try it," Hermes gasped, when Lavender turned a flirtatious smile her way. Feeling repusled _for _Draco, Hermione stumbled into the swords room and barely took in the gallery of unused swords hanging up before Draco drew her attention again. He was still retching, when Hermione sympathetically held up his hair for him and patted him on the back.

At last, he finished vomiting and fell back into Hermione's arms.

It wasn't a romantic move, or any other one of fancy but one of simple exhaustion.

"Thank God you're a man," Malfoy said, eyes closed and forehead damp. "I think I would've continued to my death, if you were another woman."

Hermione felt a thrill race up her spine. Did that mean Malfoy thought of her as a _man? _Brilliant!

"I know what you mean," she gruffly said. "I've had plently of woman in the past, and although some were _perfect, _other times I've reacted much like you have now."

"You?" Draco cracked open a dubious eye-lid. "Had a woman? Don't make me laugh."

_Oh no. _Did that mean he _didn't _think of her as a man?

"Of course I have," Hermione said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I'm _experienced. _If you have any questions, all you have to do is come to me!"

Draco's chest was heaving. First, Hermione thought another pool of bile was forcing up his stomach, but then Hermione looked down and realized Draco was actually _laughing. _It didn't last very long, and he looked half-constipated doing it but the few brief seconds Hermione saw his amused face, she realized he should do it more.

Laugh.

He looked happy doing it.

But it seemed like the second he realized his own happiness, the shutters came down and Draco stopped laughing. He opened his eyes, and frowned, confused to why he was in a commoner's arms like it was _normal _or something. He hadn't meant to laugh, but the mental image of small tiny Hermes fondling around a gigantic woman like he knew what he was doing was enough for the mirth to come.

Hermes couldn't even _wield _a sword, for goodness sake.

Draco straightened himself up sharpish, and reached for the sword an armlength away. "You!" he snarled. "Quit bothering me! I see enough of all your faces at it is. Now, GO!" he pointed out the door Lavender had sulked out of, just minutes earlier. "GO!" he insisted, prodding a finger in that direction.

Hermione went.

But she went with a small smile on her face.

Although Harry was her bestest friend currently, it wouldn't hurt if someone as powerful as Malfoy became her friend too.

It would need some work.

And he needed to learn some basic trust skills.

But they could get there.

As friends.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: WOW. Don't know where this came from! Especially the bit about Lavender having an STD. LOL. But it made Hermes and Draco "bond" even if just a little, so in that respect, STD's are awesome! Only just for bonding purposes, mind. Otherwise GO SEE A GP! Please.**

**Even bigger WOW. Got twenty-5 reviews for the last chappie! You guys rock. It's why I made this chapter the longest yet AND I updated in a week. See where reviews get you? LOL. **

**Cheers last time to: **_ThePowerOfTheTree-krista04-Akira m (well this is where the steam got me! hehe)-smileylol-The-tall-girl-in-green-Vampire Blood Kitten (:P)-claire96-biggest fan (I left it at a climax? That's an interesting phrase, considering this chapter!)-dandelion (always a pleasure to welcome new readers)-NinjaGirlClarinetBianca-CetaBabe-bushyhaird-american-nerd-Arty-daisyatdusk-Waiting at the Kitchen Door-thebedazzlingmasqueradegirl-oscarg (lol, well Draco didn't figure her out here, either! Soon will though!)-asian book worm (nice, threatening me with violence :P It worked, though! LOL)-LilGami (:D)-embirsiphonelilathia-Anonymous (Thank you!)-forbiddenluv-REDRydingHood-smartypants trip4-BubblyRose23._

**Dad's coming home in a mo! Gotta go!**


	8. There's luck, then there's horseshoe

"I don't like this."

Both boys stared into the distance as Malfoy reached out a hand and ruffled Hermes hair. Instead of fiercely remonstrating, Hermes gave a foolish grin and patted his hair back into shape.

"I don't like this one bit."

Clearly jealous, Ron turned his back on the pair and moodily blew hair out of his eyes. Harry wondered how he would react if he spilt the beans right there and then about Hermes gender. But it was a trivial fantasy that had no option of coming out into the open. All Harry _could _reveal, was that Hermes was becoming more friendly with the enemy to improve their plight in camp.

But as he continued staring at the laughing pair in the distance, unease coiled in his belly.

They were coming too close for his taste. Although Malfoy still had issues trusting _anybody, _he was more quick to smile now and however fleeting the moment, it lit up his whole face. Those days were brilliant. He didn't push them as hard, especially if Hermes was around. But occasionally it was like the Old Malfoy took over and he would disapprove of what the new version was doing.

He would push Hermes away. Wake them up extra early and make them run fifty laps around the courtyard.

The punishments were as bad, as much as the rewards were a relief.

Today was a good day. Malfoy had woken up on the right side of bed this morning, and the lingering pleasantness un-nerved everybody in camp. Hermes seemed the only one oblivious, as he walked right up to Malfoy and started chatting, right after class.

Being first and second in class respectively, there seemed a lot to debate about. Occasionally Hermes would jab a finger in the air as if proving a point, and Malfoy would counteract by mouthing of furiously. Harry had no idea what they were going on about, but it seemed really passionate.

"You don't have to worry," Harry said dubiously. "They seem to be talking about school-work."

"And you think that's not something to be worried about?" Ronald turned on Harry, sharpish. "They both love school-work! School-work makes them happy! I don't think I can stand to watch them talking about something so happily. Harry, you have to go do something. It's Sunday, right? Grab Hermes so we can visit the Sunday Market together in the Lower City."

He was pushing Harry in their general direction before he even finished the sentence. "GO!"

Feeling Ron's eyes scorching into his back, Harry shuffled helplessly foward until he was within earshot of the squabbling pair. It seemed like the previous harmony established, had been turned on its head and now they were at each others throat.

Malfoy was growling and shaking his head.

"Aristotle himself proposed there are only five elements in the world-_"_

_"None _of which, make sense! A young french-man by the name of Antoine Lavoisier has come up with _33-"_

_"_You trust the french?" he scoffed. "They have King Voldemort as a-"

Malfoy broke off when he noticed Harry standing behind them, trying to seem non-intrusive at all. But the damage had been done, and Malfoy remembered himself long enough to step backward and scowl at the two. He looked slightly bemused too. As if he didn't know how the _hell _he'd been caught up in a debate with a dweeb who could barely survive Newcomer's Night.

When Malfoy continued staring at him in a weird way- Harry jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Ron wants you to join us at the Market today. Says there's a lot he wants to show you."

Hermes, who had started staring Harry in a weird way herself, snapped out of it.

"Ah, of course! I would love too...yeah..."

"You could come too," Harry muttered in the general direction of Malfoy. He was hoping the answer would be no, but it wouldn't do any harm to be polite...unless he _accepted. _The sweat cooled on his forehead, when thankfully Malfoy looked at him as if he was going bananas, and left, sniffing something about extra sword practise. He didn't even shoot a final goodbye Hermes way. The poor girl had to catch herself, as the man shouldered into her and continued walking.

One look from Hermione stopped Harry from calling him back.

_Don't you dare, _it seemed to say and Harry quaked in his boots until Ron came and jumped in the middle of them.

"Yay!" he cheered. "The grey eyed monster has gone! Let's go shopping!"

He couldn't have chosen a better time.

**###**

Hermione got more into the trip, the higher the sun rose in the sky. In the beginning she had felt quite bad leaving Malfoy all to his own devices, especially since everyone else had paired of into two's and three's to explore the Lower City together. She knew he would be the only one left behind, and that made Hermione slightly sombre knowing she was the only one who came closest as a friend.

Surely, she should be more proactive and engage him in grouply activities?

But then realizing her mood was affecting Ron and Harry, Hermione told herself she wasn't Malfoy's keeper, and it wasn't like they knew each other well enough for her to throw her weight around. If he wanted some company, he knew where she was.

So keeping that in mind, Hermione started opening up more. Not about her past, mind, but her eyes and _ears _and basically drinking up the carnival chaos presented by the locals. If there was any simmering grudge towards The King's Guards, they were well hidden and everyone seemed to full of chuckles and smiles, pushing free cups of foaming broth in their hands, and draping silks over their shoulders.

Harry and Ron thanked them and moved on, but Hermione paused long enough to slip a dime into their pockets.

At one point, she even ducked into a blacksmith's tent to thank him for the free horseshoe he'd molded. The blacksmith was blind and greeted her toothily. He nodded as she talked, and reached out for her hand-

-when _everything _changed.

Hermione didn't see much. She was in the tent, remember? But outside, people started screaming when what sounded like horses trampled into the market. A harsh _click _slowed the horses down to a trot, and Hermione had to rethink breathing, when the shadow of a stallion fell on the tent. All she saw was an outline. An angry horse tossing his hair and whinnying. And then something more sinister- a big portly man who's figure seemed vaguely similar- dismounting from the horse.

She couldn't go out there. Something told her exiting the tent was _very _bad news.

The shadow of the man literally took a big puff, and started speaking in a loud bellowing voice.

"HEM HEM. I WOULD LIKE TO ADDRESS YOU ALL ABOUT THE DISAPPEARANCE OF A LADY. HER NAME IS LADY HERMIONE GRANGER. A YOUNG WOMAN OF EIGHTEEN SUMMERS OR SO, WHO WE HAVE REASON TO BELIEVE MAY HAVE ENTERED THIS TOWN WITHIN THE LAST MONTH. IF YOU LEAD US TO HER DIRECT CAPTURE, A SIZEABLE REWARD WILL BE YOUR PAY."

Hermione now knew why the figure seemed so familiar. Because it belonged to none other than _Gregory Goyle._

He had caught up with her! Well, of course he had. In this day and age, if a lady of noble standing went missing they wouldn't let it rest without creating a big fuss over nothing. The only question remained if her parents were in on it too. Was Henley here? Helping this ogre find his sister?

"HEM HEM. LORD HENLEY GRANGER HAS HELPED ME RECREATE THIS LIFE-SIZED PORTAIT OF MY FIANCE. PLEASE TAKE A LOOK. AND FIND HER!"

Well that was her question answered then. Hermione had to bite back a wry smile. Her life was crashing around her ears and all she could do was give a witty commentary whilst Goyle out there, signed her death warrant. What must Harry and Ron think? Well okay, Harry would suss right away because he knew she was a girl and the portrait of her probably mimicked every feature. He would have to be blind not to figure it out.

Hermione shot the blackmith a guilty glance.

No offence, of course.

But Ron? What would he think? Had he seen the picture yet? Would he see that picture and suddenly have an epiphany about Hermes, the commoner? The only guise that separated her from a Lady was short hair (slowly growing out) and a lack of fine clothes.

She couldn't let Goyle continue parading her picture around, but she couldn't confront him either.

Confronting him meant certain capture, and a repeat of that performance in the Parlour Room all those weeks ago. She could still remember vividly ducking behind a armchair, armed to the teeth with cushions as missiles.

"Old man," she whispered, sitting cross-legged beside him. "Let me stay with you for a while. I wish to seek refuge."

"I sense you are troubled, dear one," the blacksmith whispered back, tugging at the silks wrapped around Hermione's neck. Hermione was pretty surprised he could sense them out, when he didn't even have vision to aid him. "Quickly. Wrap this around your head and nose and mouth. I shall do the rest."

Just as Goyle intoned-"Where is the local blacksmith? I need new shoes for my mares!"

Hermione's heart was trembling, just as a well-intentioned fool pointed out the tent she was currently hiding in! There was no escape. All four sides had been pinned down and there was no wiggling under them. There was nothing big/wide/opaque enough to hide Hermione without arousing suspicion. So quickly winding a make-shit turban around her face, Hermione rested her palms on her knees and attempted a Buddha-like pose.

"Ohhhmmmm," she said foolishly.

And closed her eyes as the tent flapped open.

He was _there._

She could smell her once future husband even from a distance.

She could imagine him observing the odd pair from the entrance, before stepping in.

And bowing down so close, his face was an inch away from the blacksmiths.

Pugnent alcohol colouring the air...

"I want 28 horseshoes _now."_

Hermione flinched.

"You can have them," the blacksmith said, not missing a beat. "But my ailing eyesight is no good, you see. Assistant? Assistant! Fetch me a sack from the back of the tent full of horseshoes. I'm sure they'll be enough to appease this gentlemen."

She could do this. _She could do this. _All she had to do was get up, and look for a sack full of horseshoes at the bottom of the tent. She didn't have to look up. She could even function just looking at the ground and her feet, just to check she didn't trip over anything. Everything would've followed to plan too- if the _original _assistant that had given Hermione the free horseshoe hadn't popped his head back into the tent and said, "You called?"

NO.

_NO!_

Her eyes flew open and caught Goyle's. They were bulbous and squinty as ever, but suspicion seemed to make his eyes disappear altogether. His eyes caught hold of Hermione's and held- and recognition flooded him at once.

"It's you!" he hissed. "It's _you!"_

_"_It is indeed me."

Who the hell had just said that? It sounded a lot like her voice, but _calmer _if that made any sense.

Hermione would've congragulated herself well-done if Goyle hadn't shot a fist, and punched her in the jaw. Her head ricocheted back, as she broke out of her _Buddha-_pose and threw back hands to balance the fall. She was seeing many stars, and maybe a little red as well, as Goyle reached out and grabbed her by the neck-robes.

"You thought you could get _away?" _he hissed, and his spare hand disappeared under her robes.

It's not what you're thinking (though being molested is a pretty bad outcome in itself.) A searing pain gripped her thigh and Hermione didn't realize she'd been stabbed until the knife re-emerged and poked her in the neck.

_He'd stabbed her!_

_The SWINE had actually STABBED her!_

Hermione retaliated with a swing of the horseshoe. The lucky horseshoe that had remained by her side since she entered the tent. When the satisfying _clang _knocked Gregory out cold, Hermione turned and gave the assistant a weak thumbs up.

"Quality horseshoe there," she said, and promptly passed out.

**###**

On the otherside of town, in an enclosure otherwise known as The Courtyard, Malfoy was oblivious to what happening to his "friend." Instead he was working up sweat of another kind, as he swished and he sliced at an invisible enemy. Maybe it was his demons, telling him friends were nothing but enemies with a smile. Or maybe he was picturing Harry, snatching Hermes away before time decreed it...

Or maybe it was Hermes himself.

For being such a rotten fellow and being good _company._

Which was it?

He continued working at a furious pace, until the sun was a little lower in the sky and he spied Lavender, peeping at him from around a corner. This time she had friends, a small crowd of like-minded creatures only interested in seeing a boy working out. Draco curled his lip and turned away, disgusted to think one day he would have to get married to them if he survived the battlefield.

But Draco was already married to his sword, and he didn't see himself walking away from battle alive.

Live by the sword, die by the sword.

_His motto._

He would ink the words onto his breast, if he were allowed. But men were not allowed to willingly scar themselves, even if it was to ink their chest, because it was a painful procedure which involved his flesh being carved into, and ink filling up the raw wound. It was un-necessary torture, the King had decreed. And so Draco had lived, by the King's word.

He took a bath to take his mind off a lot of things, and emerged freshly laundered and drying his hair with a slip of cloth.

After he wandered back to the Courtyard, and sat on a bench for a while, lazily tapping his feet on the ground.

He wasn't thinking of Hermes.

He _swore _he wasn't thinking of Hermes.

But as he closed his eyes to...dwell a little more, panicked cries made him lose the lazy game _fast. _Draco had seen wounds in the past. Hell he'd even survived a couple in his lifetime. The most recent one (given by Errol) slowly starting to knit together to form new skin. But as he saw Ron run to push open the The Gate, Draco felt slightly sick for who would come through the gate next.

The next person was Harry, holding someone small in his arms.

The figure was unconscious, and it kept bobbing up and down as if it had no life of it's own. Ron had barely called for, "MEDIC!" before Draco had materialised, looking oddly pale faced as Hermes was carried past him. Was that _concern _stirring his heart? No, surely not. He merely wanted to assess the injury, because the boy was part of his brigade and counted in numbers, you see.

"What happened?" Inadvertently his feet was keeping up with the trio. Why was it doing that? It had no business about being concerned for their welfare.

"Not you," Ron said rudely, still helping Harry hold Hermes up and searching around for a more useful person. Okay, so Malfoy was a leader, sure. He could even kill ten people single-handedly, triple horray. But killers never really had the same touch as healers, you know?

Draco stopped as if he'd been slapped, knowing he was not wanted.

Plus he had other things troubling him anyway, like...

sneaking into the Infirmery to check on Hermes in the middle of the night.

Yeah.

So he really _was _concerned.

Bite him.

Draco silently padded down the corridor and opened the Infirmery door, just to check Hermes was sleeping restfully. He hadn't expected to stay long, maybe two minutes at the most. But that plan went out the window, when he opened the door and found Hermes wide awake.

Hermes didn't acknowledge Draco by looking at him. Instead he lay there, staring at the ceiling, as if struggling to breathe.

Draco closed the door quietly behind him and walked to Hermione's beside, the sword mysteriously absent from his hips. He didn't attempt to touch her physically, but remained standing there until her wild, crazy eyes caught his cool, icy gaze.

He folded his arms across his chest.

"The next time you want to leave This Guild," he intoned. "You have to take me with you."

It was his way of saying he wanted to be...

The Protector.

The Defender.

And most importantly...

_The person by her side._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Draco...what are you doing to me? I also know how many chapters this story is going to have/what's gonna happen in them/EVERYTHING. Be very afraid :P**

**HELP ME REACH 90 REVIEWS GUYS. Seriously. Your thingies are what gears me to write, everytime :) I've never finished a story over 4K before, and this could by my fir...(no, I don't want to jinx it.)**

**Caffeinated beverages to:**

**-**_ thebedazzlingmasqueradegirl  
>-krista04 (oh wait...I don't know if I actually replied. Figs! LOL, well first I thought you were telling me my story needed more humour, which is probably true, but then I realised you were urging me to add it to my category. I don't know. Someone else was telling me it was under "Adventure." I don't know! It's just a story. I don't think about these kind of things. LOL. The answer to your question is that yes, Harry does fancy Hermione a little, but I don't think he'll ever act on it.)<br>-Arty  
>-daisyatdusk<br>-Ulquishinee  
>-ThePowerOfTheTree<br>-smartypants trip4  
>-forbiddenluv<br>-Just me (LOL, I love how your review is really lovely, and then you just label it "Just me." Made me laugh)  
>-The-tall-girl-in-green (btw whenever I type your pen-name I always miss out a word, and have to go back and check I got it right :P)<br>-smileylol  
>-Mi High Lover (Does Oscar ring any bells?)<br>-REDRydingHood  
>-oscarg (Don't! Googling STD'S is never good. If you didn't know, they stand for Sexually Transmitted Disease. That can cover a wide range of things!)<br>-fanficftw23 (You reviewed literally just as I was finishing this chapter up. Well done for getting into my list just in time!)_

** I have double biology tommorow. Photosynthesis, anyone? And before anyone mocks me about how "Primary/Elementary School" that topic is, we just covered the "Light Dependent Reaction" and my brain just FRIED. So there :P**


	9. Warrior Woman

**A/N: I'm literally writing this in a trance, because I'm too sleep-deprived. Excuse the extra anything.**

Because she spent the better part of night drifting in and out of conciousness, Hermione couldn't be sure if the exchange between Malfoy actually happened. She was even a little starstruck, when a handsome medic entered the room and attempted to reason a sponge-bath.

Thankfully Harry was there to put a stop to the nonsense.

"No," he said firmly, pointing at the door. "I don't think that's really a good idea, thank you."

And so he had her back, and she his.

As the medic left with a "_humph!" _Ronald caught the slamming door with one foot, and shuffled in awkwardly. He had his hands hidden behind his back and didn't seem to know where to look, because Hermione's pantaloon had been cut off at the thigh, and a whole shimmering leg was revealed to him. He didn't want to look- but he wanted to look!

Eventually rationalizing one peek wouldn't hurt- Ronald gulped as he saw one slender looking leg, with barely any hair on it. Now, that was abnormal! Ronald's own resembled the unshaved back of a grizzly bear- but since he was red-headed and the hair got easily bleached in the sun- it didn't look so bad.

"I brought this for you," he snuffled, holding out a bag of smelling salts.

It seemed like the right time to present the gift, because Hermione did indeed look faint. But she accepted graciously all the same, and lay back in bed with a defeated sigh.

"Thank you Ron. That was really thoughtful of you. But it looks like I won't be staying here any longer, and you should really take it back-"

"_What?" _

"Goyle-" Hermione sighed.

"_Nothing!" _Ronald in his fierce voice. "Me and Harry sorted him out, so you don't have to worry about him, Hermes."

Since Harry was closer to understanding the situation, and why Goyle was chasing after her, she threw him a helpless look. But she was surprised to see he had the same gritty look on his face- one of determination. What had exactly transpired when she was passed out?

"Ron's right, Hermes," Harry said, squeezing her hand lightly. "We told Goyle if he ever stepped foot in this town again, or came back with lackeys, we as The King's Personnel, would track him down and slit his throat in a heartbeat."

"Woah," Hermione was shocked. "That's a serious threat."

"Well," Harry murmured, so only she could hear. "We're serious about you."

The moment was charged when their eyes met a moment later, over intertwined hands on the bedspread, but Hermione averted her gaze and Harry had to clear his throat drastically to avoid sequential embarrassment from both parties. They still didn't release hands until Ron spluttered indignantly, and gave a pointed look at the offending appendages between their bodies.

Harry and Hermione sprung apart like guilty conspirers.

But still, her gratitude was one that could not be denied.

"Harry! Ron!" she sobbed. "How could I ever put my acknowledgement into words? You are literally the most finest boys I have ever met, both in character and in heart. I wish I wasn't so burdensome on you. If I knew how to fight, you would never have to worry about me! _I want to fight."_

A little uncomfortable at this burst of emotion, Ron scratched his ear and looked bemused. If it was some-one other than Hermes, he would have pissed his pants laughing at the speech he had just heard. But it _was _Hermes, and with this boy came a territory of blurred boundaries, and a weird desire to see him laugh prettily at every witty thing that came out of his mouth.

"Er...I could teach you."

_And by joves, he got it!_

Hermione looked shell-shocked for a second, but that quickly gave way when she threw back her head, and let out a peal of laughter. "You would do that?" she asked her eyes glittering all excitedly. Ron felt special under her gaze, and would've agreed to walk the moon just to hear that laugh again.

But Harry didn't seem to think it was a suitable idea.

He was shaking his head, before Ron even finished his inner-celebration.

"No." he said. "_No._ Hermes you seem to be forgetting about the _condition you have? _You know, the one where you _can't go out and fight?"_

"Oh, this?" Hermione waved airly at her thigh. "This will patch up in no time!"

"_No!" _If Harry could've announced the true reason, it would've saved him a lot of trouble. But Ron was here, and Hermes didn't really seem to be picking up on all the eye and head signals he was making. She just seemed to take it as if he had nervous ticks. Fed-up, Harry collapsed his head in his hands and let out a hearty long moan that would hopefully get rid of all the frustration in his system.

It did little to ease his heart, but it made him feel better.

"You're in The King's Guild, it would make sense if you did sword training," Ronald was saying. "I know! Let's go to the Swords Room as soon as you're better and get you a proper sword! One that fits your frame and everything. Then it's just the matter of teaching you the basics and bringing you up to speed. How about it, yeah?"

"Can we go now?"

Never to delay important matters, Hermione enthusiastically threw her legs over the side, and attempted to stand. Harry instantly made a noise of concern, but was surprised when she limped over Ron, and stood there beaming up at him. Clearly the injury wasn't as dramatic as it looked yesterday night, when the medic was dressing it.

Ron looked over at Harry, and shrugged at the other boy.

"I suppose so. Yeah."

"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" She would've bounced along, if the situation allowed it. But instead she accepted Ronald's supporting shoulder, as he guided her outside the Infirmery to the Swords Room, at the bottom floor.

The Swords Room coincidentally, where Lavender attempted to seduce Draco Malfoy.

Hermione looked on in awe at the line of swords hung around the room, in varying states of majesty. Some were short and blunt, perfect for thrusting up close, but others were long forged blades reflecting silver and looked wickedly sharp and evil. According to Ron, as he nattered, the secret to building up quick reflexes was practising with heavier swords, and then switching to light impact ones when it came to the real thing.

All the heavy sword handling would build up muscles, Ron said, and Hermione shivered in thought.

This was it.

Hermione was learning to _fight._

She accepted a blade with reverence, and nearly dropped it on her foot. Ron shook his head, and gave her another blade.

"_Swing."_

"SWING!"

With a roar, Hermione slashed the air and nearly beheaded Ron whilst at it, when she brought the sword down in Sumurai style. Ron only managed to escape with his life when he jumped out of the way, and shook his head.

"You have no control," Ron muttered. "This is practically hopeless."

But he instructed her to come back to him, when her leg was fully healed all the same.

**###**

Three weeks later, it was like looking at a different person. Ronald stepped back and admired his handiwork as Hermes thrust into the air, both hands clenched at the hilt, before he dropped guard, spun on his heel and did the same thing again.

This would've been fine too, if Hermes hadn't thought to go one better and ending flat on his face.

Ron sighed.

Although his friend lacked finesse when it came to harder sword tricks, he'd mastered the basics pretty well. He'd surpassed Neville alone due to his sheer determination making up for the aptitude he pretty much lacked. Every spare moment he could weasel, Hermes dragged Ron out to watch him battle an invisible foe time and time again.

And for Ron, it had been a guilty pleasure to see Hermes arms gaining definition and looking _scrumptious._

Phwoaarr.

And it looked like Malfoy noticed too, because he couldn't seem to take his eyes of the golden skin revealed to him every single session. Even when he was being all moody, and didn't want to talk to _anyone, _there'd be a certain someone his eyes sought out and held. Malfoy didn't really play favouritism- but it was a clear outcry when he summoned Hermes to the front to stand next to Neville.

"I want you all to follow me."

He launched into a series of high power complicated moves, then expectantly hung back for them to copy. All of them looked at each other in despair, and tried to summon up a pale imitation to appease their torturer. Neville flat out refused to do the moves, bringing Draco's attention to Hermes as he focused, and attempted to re-create the mind-numbing blows.

The first couple of tries were weak but completely by accident her sword locked and Hermione completed one of the manoeuvres.

It wasn't the whole thing, and by no means an extraordinary feat- but Draco called his class to a halt and beckoned Hermione over.

"Class," he announced. "It looks like we have a rising talent amongst our midst. Hermes. Would you give me the pleasure of duelling?"

"What?" Hermione paled-

Before her reflexes allowed her just enough time to block a parry.

Reminiscent of the fight that took place the first evening after Hermes entered The Guild, Draco tested her with assessing blows by making her defend and on occasion attack. There was a big improvement in her game, and Draco acknowledged that by allowing her to fight for three whole minutes before he took control, and tripped her up as she backed into The Courtyard.

It was a humiliating fall for anyone to take, and he quickly made his point before she got up and boxed his ears.

"Even a person on top of their game fall risk to loosing. Not because they didn't practise hard enough- or well enough- but purely because swordsmen are more prone to falling into their own ill-advised traps of arrogance. Remember to always fight for your life, rather then to display the most finest piece of swordsmanship and make a mockery of our King."

He turned to help Hermione up, and found her face had turned a shade of blotchy red.

"How could you do that?" she snapped, after he retracted his hand. Hermione got up perfectly fine on her own, and dusted off the seat of her pants as the other boys shrugged and wandered off into the background. She had half a mind to follow them- but wanted to confront his appalling behaviour first. Draco Malfoy was meant to be her friend, and yet the way he treated her sometimes left a lot to be desired.

Didn't he want to be reached out too? Was that it?

Well fine by her!

Hermione sniffed, and was about to turn away when Malfoy reached out a hand and stopped her. His naked palm wrapped around her lower arm, and Hermione felt her flesh heat and then cool as he continued staring at her.

"I didn't mean to disrespect you," he said quietly.

"Well, you're such a hypocrite Malfoy," Hermione hissed back. "What was that back there? Oh, it's the _fighting _that counts but not the skill? Fighting is all about skill! You say you don't want us to use fancy piece of swordwork, yet you happily continue using it. What gives? Huh? What, there's one set of rules for _you _and there's one set of rules for _us? _What's wrong in wanting to better ourselves?"

She wrenched her arm out of his grasp, and tried not to mourn the loss of his touch. Malfoy was a little furnace. Every time she came into contact with him, it became so hot it felt like sparks were dancing on her skin. And much as they were painful...they were oddly pleasurable too.

This time Hermione was determined to march away and join up with Ron- but was stopped yet again by in the insufferable git.

"I disagree with the sessions I give you."

Hermione froze.

"You're not getting any real _experience _from me spoon-feeding you all the moves. When it comes to battle, it's just you on your own out there. This is where the fire that burns _inside of you _comes in. Skill isn't going to save you, experience is."

Hermione wanted to turn around and tell him what utter bullocks he was spouting. But something in her faltered- and Hermione knew there was an element of truth in what he was saying. Hadn't her three weeks of training been rendered utterly useless when Malfoy incapacitated her? Those few minutes they exchanged blows were a joke- Malfoy was controlling the duel from the outset.

And Hermione had _no idea._

Suddenly curious to learn more from this world-wearied individual, Hermione sheathed her sword and returned back to Malfoy's side. They began walking together, side by side around the grounds, hands clasped around their backs and their postures mirroring each other. Anyone from a distance could see how well these two complimented the other and that would spark jealousy, later on.

"How did you become so good?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Malfoy took a while to answer.

"Street fights. My father was a cruel man who needed money first. He quickly found the easiest way to get round that, was to enter his son into viscous street battles where one could survive...and the other had to die."

Hermione gasped.

"They were bloody," he gave a wry smile. "I remember that. And most of the time it was against the odds. But somehow the fact that I didn't want to die- not like this in the hands of someone who loved me so little- translated into my ferociousity. I fought tooth and claw. I always made sure I won. Even if I knew the person I was killing was a family man- a loved man- someone unlike me." A haunted look crossed his face.

"You did what you had to do," Hermione said shakily.

But inside her spider senses were screaming for her to _get away, _run as _fast as you can. _The man who was walking beside her was a murderer- someone who lacked remorse. But Hermione only had to glance sideways, and she could see exactly what he felt reflected on his face.

Malfoy looked sad, if a tinge weary.

There was certainly no elation, or self-congragulation written on his face. Instinctively, Hermione stepped closer and let their arms brush so he could feel her presence. It seemed like he didn't feel it, but when he suddenly stopped walking and leaned on her heavily, Hermione was surprised. This was a man who never let anyone witness his weakness, yet there he was, using her as a pillar of support. If she wasn't the one propping him up, he would've fallen simple as.

The back of her throat burned with unshed tears.

"Malfoy," Hermione tried to keep her feelings under control. "I think you should go back."

He stiffened against her.

"N-Not to that awful place I mean," she stuttered. "But I think you should bring it a full circle and enter a street brawl again. This time, your father won't be egging you on and no-body will be baying for your blood. Last time I was in the Lower City, I heard there are "friendly" street fighting sessions for anyone who wants to join in. Nobody has to die. The winner gets to walk away with his pride intact."

She looked deep into his eyes, and hitched her breath.

"A-And I think it would be really good to replace those old memories."

Malfoy closed his eyes, with pain on his face.

"I'm not leaving this Guild without you," he rasped, dismissing the idea. "And if anything, I'd rather _you _entered these street fights yourself so you can actually gain the experience needed for war."

It was then Hermione knew. Draco was starting to form a dependency on her, that couldn't be stopped. When she'd entered The Guild, her primary motivation was to better herself through books and ancient scrolls. But now her priority had changed- there was people she cared about now, and when she'd been learning to fight it hadn't really been for _her _but for _all _of them.

Because now Hermione irrevocably knew she was going to enter the battlefield, her comrades by her side.

She wasn't a coward.

A fluke.

A passing fancy.

There was no way in hell she was letting her friends go into battle, whilst she hung back and twiddled her thumbs.

_No. Freaking. Way._

_"_Okay," Hermione said, startling Draco enough into opening his eyes and _glaring _at her.

"It's on. Let's go to one of these street brawls next Sunday. I don't really care if you come or not, but my mind's made up and I think it's really a good idea. Well see you then, Malfoy. And if I don't...no hard feelings."

Hermione turned her back and walked away, and this time Malfoy was too dumbstruck to stop her. God, Hermes was so infuriating! Hadn't she just heard the whole spiel Draco embarrassingly let slip, about not wanting to leave The Guild without her? Couldn't Hermes see Draco held some fondness at _all_?

GOD, this was so irritating!

Pissed, Draco turned and walked in the opposite direction, vowing to accompany Hermes if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: SPECIAL MENTION TO **_REDRydingHood_**, for the swordfighting tip. (NINJERY TIME! lol) and same goes for **_krista04_**, for being the hundredth reviewer! Yes, can you believe it? I REACHED A 100 REVIEWS! A long time since that happened, lol.**

**The next few chapters are going to be very dramione heavy. That means yes, their relationship is gonna develop! Are you guys excited? I don't know if I'm excited. I've never reached this point in a story before, knowing exactly where I'm gonna go. So it's kinda weird O.o**

**I ALSO WANT TO MENTION WHAT A LOVELY READERSHIP I HAVE. Seriously. There I was after a long hiatus in writing, not expecting much, and wham! Before I know it I'm being engaged into banter left, right and centre. Some of your reviews seriously make me laugh. You question me. You challenge my fickle brain cells! And I really really love you guys.**

**It makes me feel I should've gotten off my lazy arse and written fanfic sooner :P**

**PLEASE KEEP REVIEWING.**

**Pancakes and Syrup goes to:  
><strong>_-Arty  
>-fanficftw23<br>-REDRydingHood (you totally deserved that special mention! :)  
>-Ivery Green (That's a relief to hear, because I have second doubts about everything! Thank you, awesome one!)<br>-am (It will happen soon! But not yet!)  
>-The-tall-girl-in-green<br>-oscarg (Has your inquring mind been sated? It's not like she got stabbed in the chest, so it was easier to evade notice. Loved your suggestion with Goyle and Lavender! hehehe)  
>-Salerio the Dragon<br>-keiko-uchiha  
>-thebedazzlingmasqueradegirl (from England! lol)<br>-me (now I know at this point I had 87 reviews. So thanks for coming back and reviewing thrice, just to get me to 90! Aw, isn't that lovely? Love you forever, mwah. I'm...not goint to reveal that yet! Cruel, I know. But fundamentally, I want to surprise you a little!)  
>-smileylol<br>-BubblyRose23 (:DDDDD)  
>-SUMMERG97<br>-bushyhaired-american-nerd  
>-forbiddenluv<br>-krista04  
>-MuggleBornWY (-hearts-)<br>-pippin95  
>-ThePowerOfTheTree.<em>


	10. A Corny Scene in the Rain

**A/N:**** I've estimated this story to be around 18 chapters, but I don't know if I'll ever get there. Just to clarify, Draco does not know Hermione is a girl yet. Some of you may think that's a bit "homosexual" of me, but I'm basing this part of the plot on a kdrama i saw called "The 1st shop of Coffee Prince." I really fell in love with that one.**

**And if you haven't figured out already, this entire fic has been inspired by k-dramas itself. No, I'm not Korean. Yes, I'm asian :P**

**Keep reading and tell me what you think at the end! :D**

* * *

><p>Hermione told herself not to be disappointed, when she woke up and discovered Draco's bed was empty.<p>

It was early Sunday morning, and most of the boys were still in bed, snoring. Snorting at the loveable image, Hermione quickly took advantage of their obliviousness and hurried through her morning schedule.

Packing some money in her purse (of course the locals had to be appeased) and tying her boots, Hermione was ready.

What she hadn't counted on, was Draco going through the exact same process an hour earlier, so he could stake-out the Gate.

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed, coming to a standstill. "You're here!"

"Where else would I be?" he grumbled under his breath, not meaning Hermione to hear. But having sharp ears, she caught every word and her heart soared in her chest. He was actually willing to sacrafice some of his free time, to be with her! Hermione told herself not to do anything rash like hug him, as Malfoy unfolded himself from the Gate, all sleek arms and legs.

His sword was hanging in it's usual spot, by his left hip.

Hoping that didn't mean what she thought it meant (that Draco was planning to skewer someone) she easily fell into step beside him, and they graced the Lower City together.

It seemed like they had set off at the right moment, because as they walked further into the depths, the City started to come into life around them. Old ladies brought rugs out and hung them on slim rope. Before proceding to beat the living daylights out of them, with a carpet beater. Young women coyly fetched out wicker baskets woven out of straw, and placed spoiling fruit on them.

Hermione, always used to eating the finer products out of a kitchen, looked oddly muted.

But for Draco, it was like revisiting old times as he openly watched a peasant drop an apple to the ground, spit on it after picking it up, and then placing it with all the other produce, after wiping it dry on her dress.

A second later, the apple was swiped by a big pair of grubby paws.

"Did you see that?" he murmered to Hermione, and nudged her in the direction of the crime. Both of them watched, as the man demolished the apple in two bites and pat the woman condescendingly on the head.

"Thank-you," he said, as the woman collapsed to her knees.

Draco let out a loud guffaw, and turned to share the amusement with his friend- but saw Hermes had turned an entirely new shade of puce. His brow puckered and he quickly glanced at the giant again, trying to figure out the relation between the two.

It seemed like the two knew each other.

Or Hermes knew this fellow by reputation alone.

As he pondered which of the two was most likely to be correct- the goliath looked up from his criminality- and spotted Hermes straight away. It was hard to describe the range of emotions that crossed his face (especially since his face looked so birdbrained) but Draco caught every emotion to a T. Anger. Rage. A bit of betrayal. But mostly- ANGER!

"YOU!" he bellowed, a rain of crumbs spraying out. "YOU'RE DEAD!"

"Uh-oh," Hermione comically uttered. "I'd forgotten all about you."

"Hermes?" Draco asked, confused. His hand automatically went to the hilt of the sword perched at his hip, and he wrapped a hand around it, drawing it out a little. Although he'd been planning to take her to a structered street brawl, it seemed like one had crept up on them already. Who was this beast? And why did Draco feel reluctant about letting Hermes deal with him, on his own?

"Remind me who he is again," Draco hissed.

"Grawp," Hermione put simply, and brought her hand up in a semi-little wave.

"I'm so sorry," she yelled. "I promised you food-"

"Warm at that," Grawp menaced.

"And I-"

Hermione broke of into a shriek, as Grawp lumbered up to her and took a swing at her head. Draco jumped back, surprised at this agile beast and withdrew out his sword in one long sweep. But he was shocked to find the giant ignored him altogether (risky, considering he was the bigger threat) and kept going after Hermes instead, intent on revenge.

"Remember?" The giant frothed. "Remember I said I would beat the _living shite _out of you, if our paths ever crossed again?"

"It was actually me who suggested it," Hermione squeaked, regretting it heavily.

Draco stood shocked with his sword still frozen in mid-air, and his mouth hanging open. It was rare to catch him so off-guard, that Draco didn't process how wiped out he looked until some commoners gathered around, and sniggered at him.

Snapping into action, Draco circled around Grawp like a deadly panther, waiting to strike.

Waiting, always waiting.

The perfect time came, when Grawp took another ill-advised lunge at Hermione leaving the back of his knee-caps open to attack. Hermione looked horror-stricken as Draco lept forward and left two deep incisions at the point of vulnerability. She looked even more scared, when Grawp back-pedalled with a bellow and fell flat on his back with something akin to a mini _earthquake_.

Sensing victory, Draco pounced on the giant's chest and situated his sword at its neck.

"Surrender," he spat.

And tried to ignore the giggling around him grow in volume, as Hermione threw herself beside Grawp's head and begged forgiveness. What was so funny? Was it that he, a small man in comparision to Grawp_, _was able to beat a creature of this size? Or was the mental image enough to do them in? Adjusting his stance (but not letting the sword go) Draco tuned into Hermes's one-way conversation.

"Grawp-"

"You have done much for me-"

"I am so sorry about this-"

"Entirely my fault-"

Disgusted, Draco tuned out of her rambling until Hermione _turned _around, and slapped him on the ankle. "Geroff him!" she whispered, shooting him evil daggers with her eyes until he complied.

Draco, not liking this one bit, jumped off the beast and sheathed his sword in one go. He awkwardly looked anywhere but the ground, as Hermione cooed and clucked over Grawp until even the giant, forgot his resentment to a degree and started liking Hermione again.

That's the thing about Grawp. He clearly had a soft spot for her, and it was only the matter of taking advantage.

"Here Grawp," Hermione crooned. "Here's a big bag of money I want you to take and whenever you get hungry, I want you to find a lady who sells hot food, and buy from her okay? It should last you for a month."

Draco couldn't help it.

Increduously he whipped his head around, and eyed Hermes like he was going mad. He _was _going mad. This "Grawp" or whoever he called himself, had been ready to rip chunks out of them not an hour past. And now they were all hunky dory? Itching to ask what the hell she was doing, Draco held it in as Hermes played the martyr _again, _and offered to accompany the giant for a warm breakfast.

Dammit.

And there he was hoping they could go back to The Guild.

**###**

Things went from bad to worse, when Grawp took them back home and they met Hagrid. Oh, Hagrid was an agreeable fellow enough. And wasn't nearly as intimidating as his half-brother Grawp. But nick-named as "Hagrid's Hut", the ramshackled abode was bursting with pet creatures and a big growling dog by the name of Fang.

Draco immediately felt on edge.

Hermione was in her element- petting Fang like he nothing to be afraid of- and eating Hagrid's inedible cakes with a toothy grin. She didn't even wince when one of her teeth _cracked _and potentially ruined her gums forever.

"Harry and Ron will love this place," she was chatting. "And I'm sure they'd love to meet _you, _Hagrid-" Blah blah blabbity blah.

Bored, Draco wandered out of the Hut and doubled around it, curious to get at least a little exploring done. Fang barked from inside and he shot the exterior an evil look, in hope the mutt will get the message and _shut up._

Hmmm.

_Looks like he got the message loud and clear._

The ringing silence welcome, Draco stepped out into the corn field behind Hagrid's Hut and discovered nature at it's most beautiful. A true gem, the field extended for _acres _of waist-high corn. Bright yellow, they swayed merrily in the wind and brushed along his thighs as Draco walked deeper.

He rarely felt this calm. He rarely felt so in-tune with nature. Usually he was destroying it's creations, then walking amongst it.

Draco didn't realize Hermione had made her excuses and followed him, until a low _grrrrr _vibrated through the corn. The _grrrrr_ grew more and more deafening, until Draco came to a standstill alogether and looked behind him, surprised.

The last thing he saw before he went down, was a big doggy face and a wagging tongue.

"Stop it," he growled, as Fang licked him all over.

Somewhere in the corn, came a light giggle that Draco recognised at once.

"You sent him after me, didn't you?" Draco accused the corn, slowly pushing the dog off him and standing up. He didn't make a move. He waited for Hermes to give himself away, and didn't have to wait long when the corn to his left rustled and Hermes set off running, doubled over in half. Suddenly thrilled at this chance of cat and mouse, Draco and Fang set of running after Hermione, Fang leading the way.

With a bloodhound nose, Fang guided Draco to exactly where Hermione was hiding.

Which was coincidentally up a tree, in the middle of the field.

There was something primal in the way he gazed up at her, with molten grey eyes. Not letting his eyes waver from hers once, Draco circled the tree until Hermione felt a heady wave pinning her to the tree so she couldn't move. Even as he tested a lower branch with a hand, Hermione couldn't help but groan and press her head against the tree.

The way he'd stalked her was too much.

The trance he held her in as predator was too dangerous.

If Draco came up here, what would she do? Would she offer up her body in submission?

She wanted too.

She really _badly _wanted too.

WHAT WAS SHE THINKING? Draco thought of her as a man! Of course, he wasn't stalking her so he could undress her and have his wicked way. That particular reality check was enough for Hermione to break out of her trance, and yell "NO!" as Draco reached up another hand to grab the branch.

"Don't come up here!" she frantically cried. "I'll come down! I'll come down!"

The first splatter of rain fell from the heavens and hit her nose. Fang, sensing turmoil weather was on it's way, turned tail and fled back to Hagrid's cabin where surely four walls and a roof will keep him protected. Not a moment too soon, that first splatter of rain turned into a torrential downpour and Hermione's hand slipped when she became soaked in seconds.

The arrogant smirk had been wiped off Draco's face now.

Instead, a non-conniving, genuine smile lit up his face as he watched Hermes struggle to keep his balance.

"You have to come down now," he yelled into the corn field, holding his arms wide open and upturning his face to the sky. Hermione nearly slipped again when she noticed how quietly handsome he looked. In the rain. With nobody but her as a witness.

The rain had drenched him through in seconds (like her), and his shirt bore the worst of it. It clung to his frame so acutely, that Hermione had to order herself to not look and get down as quickly as she got up. It would've worked too, if Hermione hadn't slipped at the last branch and fell directly into Draco's arms.

_Heaven._

No, it wasn't heaven.

Hermione cracked open an eyelid and noticed Draco was still facing the sky, with his eyes closed. His arms were outstretched as well, and in all manner of speaking, it seemed like he was asking God to take him now. Put out, Hermione braced her palms against his chest to push him away, and was petrified a minute later when she was airbourne.

No, she wasn't airbourne.

Hermione looked down and noticed Draco was twirling her, hands on her hips.

Much like an elder sibling would twirl a younger one, or a lover twirl his love.

Laughing, Hermione held out her arms and whooped at this new experience. With the rain pouring down on her face, and Draco's equally euphoric mirth against her belly, everything seemed perfect.

This was it.

The _moment._

**###**

A few hours later, and back at The Guild, the easiness of the afternoon translated into a lazy grin as Draco towel-dryed his hair.

He felt light-hearted, and like the entire world wasn't leaning on his shoulders for a change. Hermes truly was a good-natured nuisance. A nuisance because he could drag Draco into all kinds of scrapes he didn't want to be dragged into, and good-natured...because he made Draco feel happy.

Sometimes.

Shaking his head to get rid of the worst of the water, Draco hurried out of the tent and into The Courtyard. He was about to keep going into the kitchens (and demand a hot meal) when the sliver of an open door caught his peripheral vision. Curiously, this was the door that lead directly To King's Library and light/shadows of people were being reflected out into the open.

It was considered treason if someone eavesdropped private matters.

But Draco didn't care.

Changing track, Draco crept closer to the door and pushed it open. Echoes of voices floated down the walkway and snapped into focus.

"- feared, King Voldemort is advancing. His troops are marching from Provence and will be at Paris, within ten nightfalls."

"_But King Albus-" _

Someone new.

"_King Albus, does he know? Is there enough time to gather up an entire army?"_

"Of course he knows!" snapped the Professor. "He is not a fool! He has already summoned the heads of all the Brigades to his castle."

This was news to Draco. As the head of a Brigade himself, he had yet to hear news of being summoned up to _any _castle. His gut wrenched at the possibilty that he was never invited, and forced himself to continue listening.

"_-foy still doing here?"_

_"_We will break the news to him in the morning. Draco will not be surprised, as he always knew this day will come. However I assume the person he chooses to accompany him _will _be, because King Albus also issued out an order for the Heads to pick a just warrior to be by their side."

"_Do you have any idea who he'll pick?"_

_"_I have an inkling-"

Draco, not wanting to hear anymore, retreated softly and walked back to the tent, meal long forgotten. As he walked in Hermes smiled enthusiatically, Harry looked on with raised eyebrows and Ron attempted to raise a conversation about Malfoy's disappearing act. He ignored all of them, and went straight to his bed.

Whilst others may have tossed and turned, Draco slept soundly into the late hours of the morning.

And he was only awoken, when the flap of the tent was tossed aside and Prof. Binns entered adamantly. He hadn't been in the tent since he escorted Hermes away all those weeks ago, so didn't know the layout as well.

But he spotted Draco's blonde hair all the same, and came over.

"Draco," he said out loud, and for the 1st time many in the tent knew what Malfoy's name was. "It is with a heavy heart, I send you to meet King Albus down at the castle. There you will discuss battle tactics and mortality numbers for the last time, before the final battle. Take someone with you. Someone you trust, and are willing to discuss your innermost burdens."

Draco didn't really have to think about that one.

"I choose Hermes," he said firmly.

* * *

><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER: Again, it may take a while coming but<strong>

**A) It's gonna be longer than this one  
>B) Pansy Parkinson is introduced.<br>C) Draco and Hermes have to share a bed. DW, it's not only them. But for all intents and purposes, they're the only ones we're gonna focus on ;)  
><strong>

**Thanks to: -**_Rebecca -pinpin95 -fanficftw93 -twilightluvr001 -Ivery Green -thebedazzlingmasqueradegirl -Arty -MuggleBornWY -Biggest fan -bushyhaired-american-nerd -forbiddenluv -queenofgoblins_

**Sorry for not replying individually. I had three false starts with this chapter before getting here. Am I loosing my mojo? I hope not...but if chapter 11 never arrives, you know why ;)**


	11. Oh Shiriya, Shiriya

**For some reason Shakira's "Hips don't lie" has been running thru my head. I don't usually recommend songs for chaps- but this song is totally it :) Sorry for all the typos in advance.**

* * *

><p>Pansy Parkinson's real name wasn't Pansy. It was Shiriya Alkeez, the hottest export from South West Lebanon. The only reason she had adopted a more British sounding name, was in order to appeal to her clients and seem more Western. But anyone who saw her, clearly could tell she was exotic. With beautiful black tresses, brushed 100 times a day and olive coloured skin, Pansy was a remarkable looking woman.<p>

And a bellydancer.

The other girls, supporting dancers to her grande finale, had been shipped from Lebanon too.

They were a catty bunch, and didn't like the fact that Pansy was more popular then them.

The tall girl had quickly captured the attentions of foreign men, as her tummy flexed and shimmed, in a hypnotic dance. All Pansy had to do was jiggle her D-cup breasts, and the men would be drooling into their ale.

It was how King Albus had come to hear of their troupe.

Worried the morale of his troops were in low spirits, King Albus turned to his trusty advisor and asked for recommendations. They toyed with court jesters, and performing clowns- but it was truly the women that seemed to have the highest effect.

Everytime there was new company in the courts- a special show was devised for them by Pansy and her gang.

It was what she was preparing for now, as Pansy dabbed rouge powder on her lips, and allowed a servant to outline her eyes in kohl. The transformation was luminous, when she blinked sultrily into the mirror and a doe-eyed vixen winked back. The reflection even went one step further, and ousted her breasts into promienece.

In the background- two girls were whispering.

"Does she always have to be such a whore?" complained a fiesty red-head, called Ginny.

"Pansy doesn't do all that because she's a whore," whispered back Luna. "It's like she's putting a mask on. Once the make-up goes on, and she shakes her boobs, it's like she's telling the world Pansy left the building, and now a dominatrix is in store."

"But still," Ginny rolled her eyes. "_Look at her."_

Both girls peered back into the room, as Pansy stood up for first time in her full garb. Wearing a bedlah (fitted bra and harem pants), it was fringed with dozens of average sized gold coins and multi-coloured beads. The fitted belt around her midsection was full of beads/coins too and it created a dazzling effect, in contrast with the aqua blue chiffon pants.

Pansy gave a tempting flick of her hip, and the beads shimmied against each other.

"The men don't stand a chance," Luna sighed, and drifted off like a piece of moonshine.

**###**

Hermione should've felt really really happy. And she _did, _in a way. For the first time in months, she was leaving the The King's Guild in search of greener pastures. But she only had to look back, to tell she didn't really want to leave.

First there was Harry she had to say goodbye too.

They didn't really have to say much, except fall into each others arms and cry a little. Ronald was even worse- he wouldn't stop snuffling the entire day and when it eventually came to their noon take-off, he'd rushed a "_Bye-Bye" _and run off to nurse his wounds.

It was actually the other people who spoke up about her departure.

Neville didn't understand why she was leaving, or why Draco had chosen her in the first place. Seamus, not even one of her closest pals, ran out of the tent in all of a hurry and smooched Hermes heavily on the forehead.

All the other boys edged off.

It was a quiet and sombre goodbye, but then everybody knew she'd only be gone for 4 days with Malfoy. 4 long lonely days without their comrade and evil opressor...but like true nature, someone near the Lake shouted out he'd caught a "Jellyfish!" and all of them ran to investigate. Well, except for Neville (who ran in the opposite direction) and Harry...who seemed to be lingering by to say something important.

Hermione found out soon enough.

"Hermes, are you sure you want to go?" Harry gave her the option of backing out. "I mean, you're going to be with Malfoy, for four days and I don't really know if I can allow that on my conscience, especially since you're a..."

"Harry," Hermione put her hand on top of this. "I got this." She shook it reassuringly.

"But-"

"_No buts. _I'm not suddenly going to reveal my gender to him, if that's what you're worried about. _I'm not stupid. _I know the moment I do that, Malfoy would turn on me so fast, my head wouldn't even touch the ground before he kicked me out."

Harry looked dubious. He'd seen the way Hermes had been looking at Draco lately. And even more worryingly, those stares had been reciprocated by a certain blonde-haired monster. Hermione may think she had a handle on her emotions now- but if Draco continued staring at her like that, Harry was worried Hermione would forget herself and reveal _everything._

There was something about that option, that didn't sit too well with Harry.

"Promise me," he uttered. Quickly, since Malfoy was emerging out of the Kitchens with a supply of food. "Promise me you won't fall in love with him."

Hermione looked dumbfounded.

"_Promise me-"_

"What are you two still yabbering on for?" Draco interruped, pushing in through the middle and making his way to the cart. "_You, _on the cart! And I suggest _you _stand back if you don't want to be run over," he addressed the last part to Harry.

Cursing his ill fortune, Harry stepped back as Hermione sent one last fleeting glance over her shoulder, and climbed aboard.

"What say you?" Harry shouted, wanting an answer. As the horse started trotting under Draco's guidance, the black-haired boy started jogging beside the cart so he could still see Hermione's face. The girl looked stricken, and sent him a wary look. _Why would you even think that, _it seemed to say and it was then Harry realized Hermione was still oblivious to her feelings.

His heart gasped for something more than oxygen.

And he stopped running to keep up.

Strangely rattled, Hermione gave a last wave and leaned back into the cart. Why would Harry even _warn _that? She saw Draco as a close friend, and a person she could share new experiences with...but one of them did _not _include romance. She didn't even realize her confused face unsettled Draco, until he looked at her and gave a caustic remark.

"He's a strange bloke."

"Is not," Hermione automatically defended.

"Is too. Look, Hermes. I get you're good friends and that, perhaps even more than us. But the way he treats you sometimes...it's not right."

"Huh?" Hermione was startled.

"It's weird. He's always hanging around you like an overprotective brother or something. And it gets even weirder, when he gives you love advice."

Hermione blushed, mortified.

"You heard that?"

Wait...this was more serious then she first thought. Because when Harry was warning her off Draco, he'd mentioned a _him. _Either Draco hadn't heard that part of the conversation, or he universally accepted it was common for men to take on male lovers. It wasn't a new concept...and it was well rumoured that Lord Byron himself had a male lover or two to inspire his poetry.

Hermione scratched her head, and decided to switch topics.

**###**

As they journeyed through the afternoon and into the early parts of evening, Hermione's excitement began to fester and grow. Part of this had to do with Hermione being allowed to sit upfront the entire cart journey, and not ordered to sit in a carriage like a Lady. It made her feel _authentic, _and it was kinda wonderful to feel the wind in her hair, and Draco talking beside her.

Sometimes he remained quiet, allowing the silence to speak words.

But as they drew closer and closer to the Castle, the excitement in Hermione caught hold of Draco, and he couldn't _shut up. _He talked about everything. The feast that would surely greet him. Old faces he wouldn't mind catching up with. He even entertained the idea of Pig Royalty- the pork being handreared in silk blankets and gold crowns- before being led to slaughter.

"That's ridiculous," Hermione said, clearly apalled. "Who came up with a farfetched story like that?"

Draco laughed silently, whilst he frowned on the outside.

"I know, right? But you only have to look at the French Nobility to know it's all true."

It took a while for Hermione to peg what Draco was _actually _saying. Was he actually refering to King Voldemort and his ancestors as pigs? And then Hermione thought of the impending war, and she couldn't help but agree with that very clever jibe.

"That's very humorous," Hermione smiled at him. "But I'm still none the wiser about why we've been summoned up to the Castle. Does the King need our presence in some way? Is there a speech he wishes to deliver?"

Draco threw her a fleeting look- but didn't answer because he knew the Castle would be around the next bend and the sight would be very majestic. He wanted to be quiet as he approached the castle- because it always gave him solemnity and a sense of worth. Being The King's Swordsmen, it was an honour to be called up by the King himself just before battle.

And Draco wanted Hermes to share this important piece of his life.

The horses brayed as they rode past an inn, and it muffled Hermes gasp as he caught the turreted castle on top of the hill. In the middle of night, all the windows were blazing with light and it truly looked like a beacon of hope. Hermione was enchanted at once, and Draco knew it.

Near the hill-top, stablehands came out of nowhere to unhand their horses and guide them to shelter. Hermione leaned against Draco, as loud singing and merriment floated out of the castle and into their hearts.

Things looked even better, when someone Draco knew joined them.

"Draco!" the man exclaimed, very upbeat. "I knew it was a matter of time before you showed up, old boy!"

The pair hugged each other and Hermione was in shock.

"I'm Theodore Nott," he introduced himself, smiling at her. "And look what we have here. A young handsome boy all the ladies will be over. Tell me boy, what is your charm? It is not often I see my comrade in such high spirits, and yet I see him riding in with a smile on his face!" It grew even more cringey, when Theo reached out for her hand and planted a kiss on it.

_Please don't tell me he's the new Seamus, _she inwardly prayed.

"Let us go! Let us go!" he urged, and with a establishment beyond the pair, guided them exactly where they had to go. The Great Hall was exquist; four long tables arranged at each wall so they all faced each other. Draco and Hermione seated themselves, and joined in the laughter until they realized dinner wasn't _beginning, _but _finishing._

Suddenly the lights went off.

And with a clap loud as thunder, a spotlight was trained on the main table.

It focused on an elderly man, with wintery locks and half-moon spectacles perched on his nose. Hermione pictured him as the Local Physician until everyone got up from their seats, and bowed low. Hastily, Hermione followed their example and stood back in wonder.

"Welcome!" he announced. "To my castle! There is a serious war ahead of us, and yet here I am, hosting another party."

Some of the men laughed.

"What can I say? I am an amiable fellow until the people of our land is threatened! I will fight back! I will fight for our freedom! But until the day comes for me to die, I will not cut back on entertainment for my men!"

A loud cheer caused Hermione to squeak in fright.

Suddenly Dumbledore sat down, and an expectant hush fell upon the men. Hermione was highly curious in what was going to happen next- a snakecharmer? A portly Joker? What exactly _did _soldiers count as entertainment these days?

What did men need above all, that King Albus himself had gone to arrange it-

The answer became glaringly obvious, when the first strings of harp music was plucked and shrill giggles pierced the air. Half-naked women ran into the centre of hall and began _shivering- _shaking their body all over until no part was left untouched. It created a memorizing effect- glints of light catching the woman's bust, or thighs or hips.

Hermione's eyes bulged, as the women bent over and started _shimmying, _so their butts were shaking uncontrollably. A lucky man caught a view dead on of their breasts as he bent down in accident, and nearly died in disbelief.

The men were catcalling now; picking out their favourite and propositioning her. But all the girls were focused, and contained shaking their booty in a maddening way. Hermione felt sick. These women were considered sexy.

Did _Draco _think they were sexy?

She turned to him with defeated eyes, and realized Draco wasn't reacting in the way all the other men were.

He was staring at the troupe, but there was a long lost look in his eye.

And Hermione's hope _piqued._

"Go on Doll, take your clothes off!"

"Show me a little of that cleavage, yeah?"

Suddenly, the music changed. The harp music gave way to a tantalizing spell on the flute, and a shadowy figure emerged from the middle of the dancing girls. This figure was more buxom, more scantily clad than the rest and as the spotlight focused on her, Hermione saw Pansy Parkinson for the first time.

She couldn't help it.

Her jaw dropped open.

Pansy had an enormous set of knockers alright, and she immediately put them into work by banging them together by swishing her body side to side. Her dance was primal and _very _sexual. All the men hung on edge, as the girls in tandem started rotating their hips in circles and a rainfall of beads/coins coloured the air.

Draco was starting to look on in more interest.

Hermione felt despair poking at her gut again, when the flute turned all snake-charmey and Pansy began to imitate a cobra. Out! she striked, and withdrew her leg. Out! she striked and withdrew her arm. The sensual music undulated her hips as Pansy isolated pockets of her body, and danced with just her stomach flexing- or her boobs jiggling.

_D-Cup _boobs.

Draco leaned forward in his seat, and Hermione inwardly screamed bloody murder.

Oh, what was the slut doing now? Great, pelvic thrusts. Imitate the sexual position all men wanted to do, why don't you? And in the meantime, keep perspiring in that sexy way so all the men can do, when they watch you, is imagine you with your clothes off.

Fuming with petulant eyes, Hermione watched as Pansy danced closer to the men, until they were close enough to grab her arse. She seemed to be loving it. Laughing, and letting them. She even perched on one of their laps for a while, before Pansy systematically gyrated her way towards their table.

Hermione immediately stiffened.

She knew who Pansy was going for.

_Come on._

Of course the tramp was going to head over to the most eye-catching man on the table. Before Draco had a chance to wave her off, Pansy stradled his hips and rocked urgently. Draco didn't look like he was enjoying it, in fact he looked like he was embaraased by all the attention was getting. But the she-witch only had to fake slipping off, for Draco to hestitantly place his hands on her back.

Pansy instantly purred, and rubbed herself against him.

Hermione was unlucky enough to hear what she said next.

"What's your name?"

"Draco." (Why did he sound dazed?)

"Mmm. I like that."

Pansy flicked back her hair and just by chance, caught Hermes fuming at her.

"I think your friend's jealous of you," she laughed. "He looks like he can use some company."

Under the same tantalizing breath, Pansy removed herself from Draco's lap and came perched on Hermes.

"Don't worry, soldier," she giggled. "There's a lot of me to go around."

As if to prove there really _was _a lot of her to go around, Pansy reached for Hermes hand and placed it on her breast. A normal man would've stuttered. A normal man would've taken an inviting squeeze. But the girl was suddenly put off, when Hermes looked anywhere but her and let his hand drop to the ground. The girls were getting impatient behind her. Soon she'd have to move on, she'd have to wrap up the performance.

But Pansy didn't know what to do next, which was a first.

"Look at me," she pouted. All Hermes had to do was acknowledge her. That's all. If the damn boy didn't do that _soon, _then he risked her stalking him tommorow until he caved to her attentions. "Come on. Just look at my lips. Or my breasts. I really don't mind..."

Draco was staring at them.

Oh God.

What should Hermione do?

Her dilemma was suddenly solved, when Pansy hissed and revolved herself back to the dance floor. Everyone was starting to clap now, the evening coming to a close. But Hermione stiffly got up, and followed Draco out of The Hall in hope she would never have to return again.

_Aaaarrgggh._

**###**

_Aaaarrgggh._

"You're telling me everyone sleeps in one room?" Hermione asked, as Draco stopped outside of their new chambers.

It turned out, that although they had four sound walls and a roof to sleep under, King Albus could only spare four rooms to the hundred as his guests. Hermione was a little rattled, but didn't really fuss because she'd been under the same circumstances back at The Guild. But it was a complete shock to find, instead of a bed each- everyone had a bed above them as "bunks."

"Basically yeah."

"Okay, so let's find a good one," Hermione said, refering to a bunk. In her mind, Draco would obviously claim the top bunk and she, the bottom. But to her even further shock, Hermione discovered things didn't really work that way here in the castle.

"There's only a few bunks in here," a boy said roughly from the entrance. "If you want a bed, pair up."

"Pair- _what?"_

_"_Okay," said Draco, calmly accepting the offer. "We can do that."

Hearing the magic words, the boy stepped inside the room and beckoned them to follow him. Hermione did so with reluctance, still convinced she'd heard wrong until she spotted two boys quite happily lying in bed together. Suddenly they were everywhere she looked- boys slipping into the same bed as their compatriot. Loud complains when the other didn't budge over. They weren't sleeping together, because Dumbledore fancied some male-on-male action in his castle but purely for convenience.

However this wasn't convenient at _all._

Draco stripped himself of his tunic, and stared at her as if she was going mad.

"What are you standing there for? Hop in."

He nodded at the bed, not knowing how inviting that really sounded. Hermione uttered a laugh, and began backing away until she ran _thwack! _into someone. Apologising profusely, she leapt into bed without a second glance and sat stiffly in the furthest corner.

The candles were blown out, shortly before Draco climbed in and laid there, facing her. The mouthwatering scent of his skin flickered in her nostrils, before grey eyes flashed and he turned so he wasn't facing her anymore. He tucked two hands under his head, and within minutes was asleep.

For Hermione, it wasn't as easy.

**###**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: You didn't think the bed scene would end there, did you? Watch out for some kinkier stuff.<strong>

**I know Pansy came across here as some serious ho. Some of you may think that's exactly what she is, and others would be rolling their eyes saying "Give her a break..." All I'm asking, is don't write her of yet!**

**If you help me reach 150 reviews I'll...**

**a) Update soon  
>b) Make Draco spoon Hermes (accidentally)<br>c) Get Pansy to have more interaction with these two.**

**Thanks for everyone's reviews. **


	12. Snake in the Pants

**I have a love-hate relationship with this chapter. But it's the only chapter 12 you're gonna get :P  
><strong>**It's a little M-rated, so be warned.**

* * *

><p>However when it <em>did<em> come around, Hermione was so full of tension she was glad to let it go. The first few hours she spent barely moving, afraid some part of her would brush against Draco and intrinsically he would know the truth, even in his sleep.

Every time Draco shifted in his sleep, Hermione stiffened.

Every time a small sigh parted from his lips, she prayed to a higher deity.

But eventually Hermione had to admit (much to her relief) that it seemed unlikely Draco would do _anything _to compromise her position. Besides the few times he slung an ankle over the other, or burrowed further into the bed, he hadn't turned over _once. _It was almost a mockery, to see how softly his shoulder blades raised up and down, whilst she remained unable to unwind.

The exhaustion got too much to bear though, and Hermione slipped into uneasy rest.

She dreamt of startling things- bees chasing her around the garden, and staying dry in a thunderstorm- but she rolled onto her side, and continued dreaming.

For a while, Draco and Hermione remained at this equilibrium of facing away from each other. But as the sun crept over the horizon, Draco drowsily decided he wanted to switch sleeping positions and thus, rolled over.

Immediately his hard-planed body came in contact with something yielding and warm. Draco subconsciously appreciated this new dimension, and wrapped his whole body behind it.

Was there a woman in his bed?

Grinning like a sick little boy, he slowly glided his hand from her hip to her flat belly. Placing one big palm against her small tiny bellybutton, Draco pushed her into his groin and sighed in contact, when hair tickled his nose.

Now this was a way, he didn't mind waking up.

Feeling content to just fall asleep again, Draco let out a small whimper when the woman in his arms wiggled her butt a little. It seemed like she was trying to find a more comfortable spot, and in detriment didn't mind rubbing against the bulge in his pants. Draco told himself to calm down. There was no need to get this excited, when sleep was so hard to come by-

Her arse wiggled again, and this time it was a full-blown sensual grind.

Draco groaned out louder than before, and felt blood rushing south of the equator. The bulge in his pants, was becoming thicker, harder, and if he wasn't careful it might even turn out to be a semi.

And there was no way in hell he was planning to shoot out buckets full of seed, so early on.

"Stay still," he whispered into her ear. "Stay still, unless you plan to carry through."

He was a little bemused when the figure in his arms, gave out a little snore. But still not opening his eyes, he tightened his arms around her and grinned into her hair. He always had to go for the amusing ones, didn't he?

The next moment, the grin turned into an on-building sneeze as the hair continued tickling his nose. He tried holding his breath, but that didn't work because the sensory nerves in his nose went into overload, and he sneezed _so _hard, he jerked back a coupla centimetres.

"Jesus!" he said, eyes popping open.

Before registering the other person on the bed as...

_...HERMES?_

Draco was so shocked, he fell off the bed and laid there on the floor, chest heaving. Up and down. Up and down. He tried to think how in hell he could've mistaken _Hermes _for a woman. Was he so depraved, that every single flat-chested boy he pressed against, came across like a woman? No! Draco shook his head, as Hermes sleepily peered over the bed at the theatrical image down below.

Draco instinctively went to cup his crotch, hiding his shame a little longer.

"Are you okay?" asked the boy, concern colouring his voice.

And the shame Draco felt, crept up just a little further.

**###**

It was obvious, they wouldn't be sitting together come the breakfast table. Hurt, and a little confused, Hermione watched as Draco breezed right past and arrogantly sit next to Theodore Nott, the only other person she knew in the entire room.

She wanted to follow after him, and ask what was wrong.

Come to think of it, Draco only started acting this way the morning after they spent a night together. Did something happen whilst she was asleep? Did her shirt happen to ride up and give a glimpse of something unmentionable?

The thing was, Draco didn't _look _like he knew she was a girl.

He just looked moody.

And surly.

Oh, and great. Now Theo was calling over her, and she was _forced _to tackle her problems head on. Hermione smiled tightly as she approached the table the guys were sitting at, and sat across from Draco. She attempted to catch his eye, to see if everything was alright.

But Draco was resolutely looking away from her.

In fact he was staring at the spreads, and lard knife as if he'd never seen them before in his life. The normally cool and indifferent friend she sought, seemed ripped to shreds as his hand reached out for the knife...and _shook. _His eyes quickly darting up to hers, before skittering away like leaves on a wind trail.

"Are you okay?" Theo asked.

Draco made a non-committal noise.

And placed his hand on his lap.

"ANNOUNCEMENT! ANNOUNCEMENT!" a voice bellowed from the door. It was a Royal Messenger decked in green, and a matching fez. "THE KING WISHES TO SEEK COUNCIL WITH ALL THE HEADS OF BRIGADE APPROXIMATELY AT THREE O'CLOCK!"

Hermione stored that away in her mental calendar, then wondered if the meeting actually extended to her. She wasn't a Head of Brigade, and was purely here because the asinine asshole sitting opposite, invited her when he was being all nice and charming. And now look where she was- stranded from The King's Guild away from her _true _friends and receiving a cold shoulder from him.

"NO OTHER THIRD PERSON NECESSARY!"

Life was pitiful, sometimes.

The Royal Messenger disappeared as swiftly as he'd come, and everyone resumed chatter over breakfast. Theo was no different, and launched onto something he'd witnessed whilst getting out of bed that morning. Something that was odd, but was perfect for some light-hearted banter right now.

"You two are a right pair of rabbits, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Snugg-"

"That's enough, Theo," Draco snapped, banging his fist on the table and standing up. Hermione jerked so badly, her jug of milk nearly spilled as Draco strode away from the them both. Hermione thought about remaining behind, and finishing her toast off. But Draco only had to reach the double doors, for Hermione to stand up and run after him.

"Wait!" she panted, when it looked like he wasn't going to stop.

Just to be cruel, Draco started jogging himself.

"WAIT!"

Draco slowed down to a walk once he got outside, and only because he nearly bumped into a Lady. He was too focused in getting away, to notice Pansy's appraisal of him as he reached out two hands to steady her. "I'm sorry," he muttered, and was off again.

Pansy's eyebrows rose even higher, when Hermes came barrelling out of the Castle.

"What's _wrong?" _he howled into the wind.

It was all very dramatic, as the boy caught up with the taller one, and tugged him on the back. Angrily, he tugged again and Draco swivelled with heat and ire on his face. Even Pansy, who knew all that rage and anger wasn't directed at _her, _was intimidated.

"YOU!" he yelled back, giving as good as he got. "YOU'RE WHAT'S WRONG!"

Pansy choked.

"I'm sick of you following me around like a lost puppy! I'm sick of you being here!"

It was never nice to have rude things shouted at you, and Hermione instantaneously felt the words smart. Was her existence that terrible, to make him feel this way? Did her presence make him reach for a sick bag, every time she came too close? Well, they did bond right after Draco finished being sick at Lavender, and the only reason they became so _chummy_ was because she witnessed it.

But then she thought about it in another way. Sure, Draco might feel sick in her presence. But he'd done an awfully good job hiding it so far, and _wasn't he the one who invited her to come in the first place?_

Such a hypocrite!

"Well, if you were that sick of me," Hermione said coldly. "Then you could have said something beforehand. And the very least, not _invite _me to this god awful trip with you! Yeah, Malfoy! I pin this on you! And do you know what's even more sad?"

Hermione stepped up close to Malfoy, so their breaths aligned.

"I've been your friend all this time, and you never once divulged me your name."

"Well, it's DRACO!" he said angrily, reaching up two hands and pushing her back slightly. After the eye-opening incident this morning, Draco was reluctant to bring the causer of his troubles so close to his person. What had gone so wrong? They had joked so openly and freely 24 hrs ago, and now their friendship was ruined because Draco woke up with a snake in his pants.

How, just _how _could he treat Hermes the same after that?

"Well _Draco," _Hermione snarled, suddenly fed-up. "I wish you a pleasant stay."

Malfoy didn't say anything. He kept staring at her with those grey orbs, till he realized the thunder wasn't fading and he needed to escape. He turned and marched of into the distance- probably to sulk some more- and left Hermione rapidly trying to blink back tears, and failing.

She hadn't meant half the things she said. Not even the bit about Draco not revealing his name.

But it was funny how small things like that, got blown out of proportion in the middle of an argument.

Hermione wanted to call him back. Say she was sorry, and maybe give him a hug. But her pride, _stupid stupid _pride demanded she stay put until he came and apologised first. Listening to reason for once, Hermione turned back to return to the Castle, and _maybe _salvage a little breakfast. Because boy, was she hungry! But she came to a stop, when she realised a familiar beauty was preening in her path.

"Hello there," Pansy waved. "You might not remember me but I was the girl who was sitting on your lap? Pansy."

Hermione looked blank.

Sighing in exasperation, Pansy emitted a false-pitched giggle and shimmied her boobs.

Recognition lit up Hermione's face.

"Anyways, I couldn't help but eavesdrop on that little argument. Has anyone ever told you, you're a passionate man?"

"Multiple women," said Hermione, bored. "All of them screaming my name."

Why was she even _indulging _this over-hyped chick? All Hermione wanted to do was run to her bedroom, and bawl her eyes out like a little girl. But this unexpected arrival of a floozy, had kept the tears at bay and her mind strangely ticking. Maybe talking to Pansy, wasn't a bad thing. Especially if the girl could distract from her own misery for a while.

"Oooooh," Pansy shivered, delightfully. "Hermes, wasn't it? Good, _strong, _solid name."

Hermione blinked.

"Anyways, I was wondering if we could have a secret rendezvous at 3 in the afternoon? I know this _delightful _spot we could go to, and maybe get better acquainted?" It was Pansy's turn to blink seductively, and like talking to a true man, she knew exactly what to say to make Hermione waver.

"Don't worry," she waved airily. "I'll bring the food."

**###**

Approximately the same time Hermione should've been meeting up with Pansy, Draco found himself alone in the courts. He'd come here early, so he could be alone for awhile before King Albus delivered their fate.

That's how Theo found him.

Hunched over, and bowed in thought.

"Hey old boy," Theo said warily.

Draco looked up and gave him a fleeting smile. Before standing up, as the Royal Messenger made his entrance, and announced the King. Dumbledore walked in like a young man, a spright in his step and a sparkle in his eye.

Automatically Draco felt confident in their King.

But it was a far outcry an hour later, when the council was well under way and Draco realized some of the men here were being assigned to their death. The small ambush army at Dover was unnecessary, especially if they weren't going to be backed up by a bigger number. Theo was one of the people stationed at Dover, and thus one of the first people sentenced to die.

"Permission to speak, my King," Draco said angrily.

Dumbledore observed him over his glasses.

"Granted."

"If we had more of a stronghold at Dover, we would stand a chance of killing them at sea. But it would be pointless, only to station a few 100 men at Dover, if we're facing 10,000 wanting in. Either we should protect our borders- or not at all."

"Sit down," Theo sideways hissed. "I do not need you to fight my battles for me."

Dumbledore gained a sympathetic look in his eye, one normally reserved for people who didn't _want _to understand. "You think we can come out of war, unscarred? I have fought wars before young warrior, and I know it comes at a heavy price. Men from both sides will fall. Surely some of you in here, will not come out of this alive. But this is the nature of war. For every victory...there is death."

The fists at either side of Draco curled.

"Then let me be restationed at Dover!" he burst out. "I have nothing to loose!"

But Dumbledore was already shaking his head, already finalized in decisions.

"You are one of the best, no? The reason why you were transferred to The Guild in the first place?"

Theo, his last station partner back in Dover, looked sad.

"You have to remain at The King's Guild. The Guild is the only thing that stands in Voldemort's way to the castle. If it falls, then hope is surely lost."

Dumbledore issued a few more details, before he got up and excused himself. This was the last time they would adjourn together, but the Heads of Brigades were allowed to stay on a further 2 days to finalize battle plans, and get good rest.

The war would start in a fortnight.

**###**

Pansy giggled as she admired herself in the mirror. Oh Hermes was going to struggle to keep his hands away, in this! For once in her life Pansy was experiencing true happiness- she had met potentially the boy of her dreams, and now they were going to wine and dine!

The background scenery would be epic- Pansy had carefully chosen a small waterfall ten miles north.

And they were even going there, by horseback!

Oh, could things be anymore romantic?

Swirling her petticoats with one final relish, Pansy ran down the stairs and hurried out to the stables. There a beautiful pony was waiting for her and even better... Hermes!

Pansy slowed down, when she realized Hermes was requesting another horse.

Her face turned ugly.

_What was the boy playing at?_

"Oh, Hermes," she crooned. "Surely we could ride one horse together?"

_Not to mention, I would really love pressing my breasts against your back._

But Hermes had to only look back at her, and express concern in the horse riding so far out with two bodies _and _a picnic basket, for Pansy to swoon. This boy was too good to be true! He treated her respectfully, cared after animals...and first and foremost..._a challenge._

Hermione had never ridden a horse before. Normally she was in a carriage (or a cart) being pulled by the creatures. But there was something exhilarating about climbing on top of such a large creature, and feel it's glossy muscles contract under your thighs.

The horse nickered under her and Hermione immediately fell in love.

God...this was _therapeutic._

Following Pansy's unintentional lead, Hermione lightly kicked the horse in the flanks and nearly fell of, when the horse started cantering. She laughed, as the wind whooped through her hair and the horse bounced her up and down.

The sun was glorious.

The grass was crisp.

Trees hung in the distance.

Could anything be more divine?

(Hermione tried to ignore the flashback of a corn field.)

But things started to turn downhill, when the horse she was riding saw Pansy's mare as a challenge, and started to overtake her. Pansy (not the horse), thought Hermes was trying to race her and gleefully urged her pony to run faster. On and on this game went, and Hermione barely clung on as the horse went

...faster

...and faster

...and faster still.

God, she was starting to feel sick. The so called glorious sun was turning black, and the grass withered and died in seconds. Hermione blinked and realized, there was a low hanging branch in front of her...

And too late.

She fell of the horse, in a flurry of arms and legs.

Down and down she rolled, until the hill evened out to a little river at the bottom. Splash! she went in. And all the dirt, and little twigs that clung to her outfit got plastered in _seconds. _

She was bleeding.

Why was it down there?

Hermione's lip trembled as she realized her moon-blood and been and gone for a week, and it was too early for the next monthly cycle. But yet it was coming out of _there..._and it felt like something was broken. Something deep in her, something in the very _core _of her...was broken?

Her pain was still throbbing in the forefront, when somewhere up above, Pansy gave a shriek and started windmilling down the incline. She was running as fast as her feet would let her, and was kicking up dust and little woodland creatures. It would've been a beautiful sight, if the momentum hadn't gotten too much and Pansy ended up a heap, in the river.

"Hermes!" she shouted elatedly, wiping water of her face.

"THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!"

Her joy turned to concern, when the next swipe of her face revealed Hermes with blood running down his legs. His crotch was coated in the stuff, and little tendrils of red were dripping down his pantaloons and into the water.

"Hermes!" she gasped, thinking the worst. "You're bleeding!"

Oh dear. Was Hermes privates so sensitive, they burst the moment he got chucked from the horse? It looked like an explosion had gone off down there, and Pansy was sad to think he wouldn't be able to sire any children now. But something was strange.

"He's a girl," Pansy whispered to herself faintly.

"Hermes is a girl."

It was like she was punched in the face all at once. How happy she'd been this morning, dolling up for the boy who didn't care. How weird it was not to feel a bulge in his pants, when she'd sat on his lap. But she hadn't really been paying attention had she?

All she'd been concerned about, was her own matters.

For the first time, Pansy raised her eyes and _looked. _Looked at the boy who'd been placed so tantalizingly close, and then snatched way cruelly. Of course Hermes was a girl. It would explain why she looked so jealous when Pansy danced all over Draco. It would explain why Hermes had no interest in _her. _It would also explain why there was blood all over her legs, and bandages peeking through her skirt.

The first time Pansy had gone horseback riding (not advised for ladies) she'd gone through something similar.

The maid explained it was because of her _virginity._

Most women had the pleasure of breaking it during sexual intercourse, but there were other ways to break it too.

Extreme sports, was one.

Horseback riding, was the other.

"You're a girl," Pansy whispered and this time Hermione paled. She knew the jig was up. It would've taken extreme luck, for Pansy _not _to notice. But as the girl picked up her skirts and turned to run up the hill, and back to their horses-

Hermione used her lightening quick reflexes to reach out and grab her arm.

"You can't tell," she said, starting to cry. Or maybe it was the heavens opening up?

"Of course I should tell," Pansy said viciously, whipping her arm out of Hermione's grip. But this time she didn't flee. She turned and spilled all her hate and anger upon Hermione's heaving shoulders.

"Oh my God. Do you _know _how may laws and violations you have broken? Women aren't allowed in the army! It's punishable by death. And yet you brazenly dress up as a man and enter, so arrogant in not being found out. Either that, or you're a bigger whore than I am."

"No!" Hermione cried, her heart bursting in her chest.

"I bet that wasn't your virgin blood, I just saw now. I bet all the men in your troop know what a little _pussy _you are, and queue up just to have a go! What is it? A different man every night? Two at the same time? No wonder they haven't spilled your gender yet! What man, in his right mind, would grass up on free _pussy?"_

"IT ISN'T LIKE THAT!" Hermione shouted, scandalised. "NOBODY KNOWS, OKAY?"

She couldn't mention Harry. Although he was her friend, if Pansy found out at least _one _person knew, her presumptions would be validated. No matter how much Hermione strenuously denied it until she blue in the face. Her insides quivered as Pansy took a threatening step forward.

"Does _Draco _know?" she whispered evilly.

"NO!" Hermione burst out, horrified.

"Then should I _let _him know?"

"Please," she was begging. She even got down on her knees and held onto the hem of her dress. "Please no. I would do _anything."_

"Anything, huh?"

The glint in her eyes were merciless.

"Well, if I'm not going to tell him then someone should."

"Oh, I know!"

She bent down her head, so her equine nose was only a few millimetres away from Hermes own.

"How..."

"About..."

"_You."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: OH MY EFFING GOD. Even I was biting my nails there. (Metaphorically of course, I kicked that habit eons ago!)<strong>

**Help me reach...179 reviews and I'll**

**a) Update soon (hehe, that's a given)  
>b) Make Draco question whether he's gay or not. (This will be sooooo cute!)<br>****c) Kiss/try-to-kiss several people to find out.**

**SO I CAN'T WAIT BASICALLY.  
>Now, anonymous reviewers! The lovely bunch you are :)<strong>

**-**_**Anonymous** : Hehe. I'm incapbable of writing seriously. My english teach (last year) told me my writing was "satirical" and wondered if I was trying to imitate someone famous. Hah! Funny old world we live in :)  
>-<strong>A Stolen Time TurnerBloody/Always sarcastic Arty** : whom I'm 100% sure is all the same person. I laughed at all the clues you gave, and have to admit you're a genius. High praise indeed :P  
>-<strong>rawrmonster332<strong> : Lol, all you horny monks interested in the spooning :P But I'm glad Pansy's around, because she inspired me when I needed it!  
>-<strong>nevertolatee<strong> : You're right! Reviews can never be too late! Unless the story's removed? :(  
>-<strong>oscarg<strong> : I don't think Draco gives 2 flying hoots if men got horny for each uvver. But when's HE's the man in question...you could see he didn't really like it. He's straight as they come...so why the hell is Hermes getting him in a flap?_


	13. Too many Frogs Till the Prince

_"Then let me be restationed at Dover!" he burst out. "I have nothing to loose!"_

Draco was getting really good at telling lies. He had made out he'd wanted to go to Dover, because there was nothing for him here. But there was the Brigade- thirty men solely depending on him to guide them through the war- and then there was Hermes.

He couldn't deny it any longer.

The attraction had been there, when he'd woken up with a raging..._problem._

And it's enthusiasm didn't dampen in the slightest when it found out who it was pressed up against.

It was the reason why Draco was now reluctant to look up his bedtime partner and call it a night. Having been interested in women all his life, it suddenly put his sexuality into question when he was easily aroused by men too. He didn't like that. The way his body reacted when Hermes pushed into him, and he thought he was getting lucky.

It didn't help, he hadn't lain with a woman for a long time too.

How many years was it?

Once he'd been promoted to his current title, there really hadn't been time to skulk of with one of the kitchen maids and _have fun. _Even then, he would simply have to push in, pull out and say thank you without really meaning it. Draco envied how the other guys seemed to do this with endless passion, but he didn't really fancy following in their path.

Plus Lavender had _ruined _womankind forever.

So maybe it was a good thing he was falling for Hermes?

Once again, Draco stopped pacing and shook his head. Everytime he came to this point of his self-argument, he would balk at the thought of his homosexuality and restart again. Surely he wasn't gay! It was normal for men to wake up with wood once in a while. Maybe it was the fact he hadn't slept with a woman in a while...and it was easy to mistake Hermes petiteness for a...

He resumed pacing again, in a much more feverant manner.

"Are you ever going to stop?" a voice said from the shadows, and Draco immediately grew defensive.

"Stop watching me then!" he snapped, with narrowed eyebrows.

Theo (of course it was Theo) stepped out from under an awning, and leant against the pillar with crossed arms. They were in the secluded section of the castle, and coupled that it was _night, _there was really no-one else to witness Draco's turmoil.

"I really appreciate what you did back there," he said softly. "But you've always been a self-sanctimonious git, even back then."

He broke out into a loud, goofy grin that slowly dwindled away, when Draco continued pacing in front of him.

"What's up?" he wanted to know. "I can sense something is troubling you. It seems unlikely you're returning to bed, and Hermes is shivering all by himself keeping the bed warm. He keeps asking everyone where you are."

Draco gave a visible reaction to Hermes name.

"Oh, so it's like that is it?" Theo said knowingly. "Hermes gone gay for you or something? Don't wor-"

He broke off alarmed, when Draco let out a bitter groan and sank to his knees. The man before him even clutched his head, as if he was going mad with disease. Theo was always the one who goofed off, and let Draco be the responsible bullcrap back in Dover. So to see his friend falling into pieces, made Theo realize something was _way _up.

Approaching the warrior like a wounded wilderbeast, Theo crouched next to Draco and put his hand on top of his.

"It's okay," he soothed, patting that hand.

"It's all o-_mffffrghg."_

Things got even more weird, when Draco grabbed hold the neck of his robes. Clearly exhausted by thinking too much, he stared into Theo's eyes as if determining something deep within himself. His eyes flickered to Theo's lips- and back up again-

But it was certainly _no _warning, about what he was _actually _going to do.

A surprised grunt left Theo, as Draco suctioned his lips to his. The kiss was very out of the blue and _messy. _But Draco seemed like a man on a mission, when he let out a rugged half-sigh and attacked Theo's lips again.

Theo couldn't believe it.

His friend was snogging the life out of him.

_And he was enjoying it._

Just as Theo considered opening his mouth, so Draco would have better access to it, the elder boy lent back and wiped his lips.

"Wha-huh?" Theo said dazed, hair in disarray.

"That was _disgusting," _Draco spat, now using the sleeve of his tunic to scrub his mouth thoroughly. He'd been so convinced of his homosexuality for a second there, that locking lips with that _fiend _seemed the natural progression of things. But there was no firework exploding behind his eyes. Or his heart heating up in a primal desire to do scandlous things with Theo.

All he could think about, through the entire ordeal, was how acutely Theo's lips resembled _slimy slugs._

_Bleeeurrrgh._

"WHAT THE HELL?" Theo shouted, catching on his friend hadn't been enthralled like he'd been. Faking indignation, he jumped up and tutted loudly, trying not to blush in mortification as Draco continued gurgling his throat and spitting saliva on the floor. "YOU..." he said. "YOU...How could I've accused Hermes being gay? When you're the one shamelessly sticking tongues down other men's-"

"GO!" Draco barked, stopping Theo. "And don't you dare-"

"I won't tell a soul," he quickly promised, and exited stage right. As he was running away, he couldn't help but wish Draco had carried through with the tongue thing. As it was, mere lip contact was making his stomach jizz in excitement.

Back in the secluded enclosure, Draco let out a whoop of joy and twirled around.

"I'M NOT GAY!" he yelled out to the stony pillars. "WHOO-HOO!" and would've continued celebrating, if someone _else _hadn't stopped him.

**###**

"Are you sure about that?"

The more effeminate quality of the tone, made Draco stop twirling and stare into the shadows again. This time, it wasn't a tall, slim shadow of a man emerging but a short, curvaceous figure of a woman. Pansy Parkinson, in nothing but a slip, stepped out into the open and struck a seductive pose.

"I take it you haven't talked with Hermes yet?"

"What?" Draco asked confused.

It was all Pansy needed to confirm that Hermes had done jack-squat since their last "conversation." The orders had been to tell Draco she was a girl, the moment she clapped eyes on him. But clearly their paths hadn't crossed since this morning, because Draco was hiding out in this _little _exposure.

Oh, well.

Bygones be bygones.

Well aware her slip was letting Draco glimpse her dusty-brown areolas, and lady garden, Pansy sashayed across the pebbles. The moonlight bathed her in seductive colours, as she draped over his back and rested her chin on his shoulder.

She felt Draco gulp heavily, and felt grim satisfaction.

Hermes clearly had some indestructible bond with this fellow right here. What was the silly bint hoping for? That he would discover she was a woman one day, and fall into her arms out of sheer love? Stupid stupid woman!

Pansy trailed a fingertip down Draco's jaw.

Well if that was Hermes stupid dream, then she might as well crush it. That girl had to realize there was consequences to dressing up as a boy, and making people fall for her outrageous lie. So she wanted to continue being Draco's go-to-it girl, did she? Well Pansy would have to see that, surely but thoroughly.

Reaching up to the loose backtie, with one tug she was nude.

Draco didn't dare look around. What was it with him, and women getting naked whenever he was around? Couldn't he just amble along in peace _without _any nudity? He went to walk out of the situation, but Pansy slipped her arms around him and dragged him back to her body.

Her fingers toyed with the drawstring holding up his pantaloons.

"Just let me pleasure you," she whispered. "Let me show how much I care in the best way that I can."

Echoing the tug that Pansy performed earlier, his pantaloon slipped to his ankles with a betraying ease.

"No," he choked out, already sensing what she was about to do.

"Yes," she breathed, breaking his tortured gasp with a kiss. Although this one was more pleasant than the fiasco with Theo, Draco resolutely kept his mouth in a thin line so Pansy wouldn't have much to work with. She didn't let that deter her, and peppered his face with light pecks and grazing.

Draco's countenance shook, when Pansy dropped to her knees.

"Let me service you," she breathed, looking up her eyelashes. It was then the reality of the situation hit him. The surreal manner she'd crept up on him and propostioned a sexual activity, was blown away when her breath hit the core of him. He could feel her panting there.

Shallow little pants that should've felt _wonderful._

But all Draco could feel was ashamed.

There was a beautiful woman in front of him, and he didn't know the first thing to do with her. His body wasn't reacting the way it was supposed to do. He was meant to be growing hard by now, enough to resemble a spear point. But he still remained flaccid, and couldn't work up enough mojo to get excited. What did this mean? That he was gay after all?

But his aversion to Theo!

Was Hermes truly the only person to get this reaction out of him? Draco let out a little moan, and bent down to gather his pantaloons. He jerked it up with impatience, and tried to ignore the rejection swimming on Pansy's face.

"You're- You're...?" she gasped.

"I don't want you," he said coldly. "I don't want you at all. So stop embarrassing yourself, and get your act together."

**###**

The bunk room was empty, when Draco came crashing through the door. They were probably all outside, trying to perform various activities until the curfew rang. But this suited Draco perfectly, when he saw Hermes peek over the covers.

"Draco!" she said surprised.

And then clocked the darkening cloud hovering over him.

Despair flooded her gut, as she realised that Pansy had found Draco first and told him the truth. No! This wasn't the way it was meant to be! Now that Pansy had her claws in him, she'd twist it around to make it seem like Hermione _deliberately _kept it away from him, for a good laugh. She hadn't wanted to reveal her secret like this. She'd even promised Harry she wouldn't tell Draco her true identity.

But she was backed into a corner now. What choice did she have?

"I'm so sorry, Draco-" she started to say, tears automatically welling up at the corner of her eyes. "I didn't mean-"

But was sufficiently surprised when Draco continued stalking towards her, and bent over so they were face to face. He placed two hands either side of her head, and Hermione yelped.

The bath she'd taken earlier seemed like a bad idea all of a sudden. The inviting freshness of her skin, was drugging him into some dim-witted fool as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. They were so close, she could see every pore of his skin. Not to mention how tantalizingly close his lips were, and the ripe plumpness of them. Draco's eyes speared her to the bed.

"I want to kiss you."

"_What?" _Hermione squeaked.

Well _this _wasn't a reaction she'd been expecting.

"I don't care if you're a man," he growled, pinning two knees on either side of her. He was totally hovering over her now, and if he decided to let his weight settle on _any _part of her body, he would be completely sinking into her. Maybe that's what he wanted. To be drowning into her essence.

Draco lowered his head to catch her mouth, and Hermione instincetively placed two fingers against it. Or more specifically his lips.

"You can't," she whispered.

Especially when he still thought of her as a man, when he was about to kiss her. There was simply no way she was letting him share an intimate act, when he didn't even know _who _he was kissing.

But Draco clearly thought he knew her to a T.

"Yes, I can," he said forcefully. "Just let me kiss you, so I can get you out of my head."

He lowered his body even more, so he was in danger of letting his groin press into hers. It was then Hermione started truly panicking he'd follow through without listening to her. She pushed his body of hers with a violent shove, and held the sheets protectively over her chest.

"You better leave," she said shakily. "Because I refuse to share a bed with you tonight."

Draco began to look angry, but schooled his expression into one of mild irritation, by holding his hands up. Outside the rain was starting up, and he knew by the time he returned he'd be soaked to the bone. Why, even the other boys were starting to file in to avoid the downpour.

"Fine," he grimaced. "I'll go."

But there was every intention he'd be back.

**###**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Chapter 14 next. You all know what that means, don't you? ;)**

**I'm still responding to reviews, so forgive me if I haven't replied yet.**

**Now...the anonymous reviews.**

_-Anonymous: Yep. here it is :)  
>-am: Evil for witholding it so long? I guess so ;) Muhaha-cough.<br>-Kitty: Economics sux. But it's rewarding, if ur really into it i guess. Thanks for reading it one go :)  
>-me: LOL. kay.<br>-lia163  
>-Salerio the Dragon: That's awesome to be told^^<br>-thefairyqueen: One of my longer reviewers! So in turn, my reply will be kinda long too :) It's great you find all the characters relatable...though like you, I seriously want Snape thrown in there too. But where? No matter! I'll find a place ;) Lol, never knew there was a ranking of pleases :P  
><em>_-nevertolatee: LOL, you happened to catch me in a good mood :P If I'm feeling patient, I'd sit down and reply to every single person I can. Otherwise, I just focus on getting the chappies out. Thanks for reviewing! (again)_


	14. REVEALED

The assasain threaded the arrow into his cross-bow and aimed it at the King, from a distance. He was standing in the upper balcony, shrouded from view in a black cape and an equally dark masquerade mask that tied over his lank hair. The King continued chatting to his advisor, oblivious to the man who threatened to end his life.

"The war could've been avoided."

"Yes, sire."

"So many lives needn't be lost."

"As you say, sire."

A suspicious glint caught hold of the advisor's eye, before the arrow whistled through the air at 100mph and embedded into the back of his skull. Instantly the King was on his feet, clutching his frail heart and looking out into the darkness. His hand reached for "Excalibur" (the mocking name people had taken to calling it) and his hand missed the hilt by a mile. Instead the sword clattered to the floor, the echo dying away to a mean chuckle from the shadows.

"Who is there?" The King wheezed. "Announce yourself!"

The thrumming of his heart got too much, and the King had to seat himself to regain his breath.

He watched a dark figure flit from one column to another, until Excalibur was snatched from the floor and held to his throat. The King's eyes caught the dark pits of a merciless man, before Snape jabbed the sword even closer into his flesh.

"Prepare to meet your maker," he hissed.

What followed was not a brutal slaying, but a hearty round of applause as the twin doors swung open and members of the counsel glided in. They were all beaming and excitedly chattering with each other, and even laughed at the exaggerated surprise on the King's face.

Wormtail remained dead on the floor.

Snape dropped to his knee and offered the blade back to his King. Voldemort accepted with grace, and joined in with the guffaws filling the room. He stood up once more and delivered a speech so rousing, it would make Snape remember it for days.

"Severus Snape has agreed to assainate King Albus. What you just saw, was a sneak peek for what was to come. Unfortunately, whilst we were planning this little shinneagan, it came into light we had a traitor in our midst. Dear Wormtail, was a trusted advisor but was willing to spill our secrets to the other side. It was only a natural conclusion, to end his plucky path."

King Voldemort turned to the assasain and gave him a small bow.

"Snape. That was perfect."

**###**

The little walk Draco took did nothing to cool him down. Instead the endless drizzle heightened the anticipation in his stomach, and he couldn't open his mouth without being sick**. **So taking common sense into account, Draco kept his mouth firmly shut.

Anyone looking out of the castle windows would've been scared silly, at the apparition wandering the grounds. But anyone brave enough to take a closer look, would've realised a lovestricken bastard was getting clensed in the rain. Draco had the whole Romeo thing, down to a fine pat. With his tunic open to the waist, and hair drenched to his collarbone, Draco was the archetype of a Bryonic Hero. Brooding. Mysterious.

And fiercely and passionately in love.

"What a strange man," remarked Ginny, watching from the Servants Gateway. She'd been hoping to ask one of the men if they knew her brother, but they were scarce tonight. Ginny didn't fancy approaching the strange man either.

"Leave him be," Luna whispered, a tender expression on her face. "He is troubled, and needs time to air his worries."

Ginny began staring at _her._

_"_What?" Luna shrugged. "I am merely reading his aura to tell you the news."

"Is there anything else I need to know?" Ginny was incredulous.

"Oh, nothing to worry about. The stars speak of a ambivalent presence, but the dawn will bring a new revelation. The blood red of Jupiter means the night ahead is chaotic and full of secrets being unveiled. Perhaps more than one. Well that's all from me, night night."

Ginny reached out a hand to Luna's back, then withdrew it feeling quite foolish. Time and time again, Luna would spout of these prophecies and get Ginny all in a bother just thinking about them. If tommorow night was meant to be chaotic, then let it be. Casting one last look at the strange man, Ginny turned her back and departed for bed.

It took till morning for Draco to figure out what he wanted to do.

Slinking in like an alley cat in prowl for his future mate, Draco shook off all the water and crawled on top of Hermes. Hovering on all fours, Draco allowed himself the slim moment of drinking in his face. Hermes face was beautiful for a man. Slant eyebrows framing long, feathery eyelashes. Rosy red lips that was a little chapped, but still endearingly cute.

Draco lent forward and kissed Hermes eyes first. He nosed along her cheek, until his dry lips caught hold of her plump ones. Draco closed his eyes, hardly daring to believe his luck. Even though Hermes wasn't doing anything, he felt a rush of emotion so strong, he started crying a little. This was a forbidden taste. But how could it feel so good?

Again he captured her lips, crying into them.

But the last thing he expected was her to give into his advances. Maybe it was the feel of his tears against her face, but Hermione reached out two hands and sleepily wove them into his hair. "Don't cry," she whispered, her brows furrowing at this imagined pain. Draco stilled a little against her neck, having dove into it when he _really _started to feel himself starting to let go.

But instead of her words soothing him, Draco began to get angry.

He unburrowed from her soft skin, and glared down at Hermes peaceful face. Her lips had gone slack again, and Draco could see her eyeballs moving within her sockets vividly.

"How can I not cry?" he harshly said. "How can I not cry when I'm falling in love with a man?"

Feeling utterly frustated for her lack of response, Draco once again assaulted her lips. This time it was heavily charged as Draco drilled his tongue through and invaded her mouth. He didn't want her to choke, but merely wanted a physical representation of what she was doing to him mentally. Draco bit her lips, caught his tongue in her teeth, tasted a bit of her saliva but yet it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

Christ, he was pathetic.

But Hermione _was _responding. She let out a little agitated whine, before kissing him back with all she got. The foreign body that was seiging her mouth, she took hold of and gave a brazen suckle. Draco couldn't help but give out a little cry- this time in surprise. And things got even better, when Hermes started fighting him for dominance and used dirty tatics, like running her fingertips through his scalp.

Draco broke off the kiss to regain his breath, panting heavily.

"I think I really really love you," he said, a smile starting to overtake his face.

"Mmm-hmm," Hermione agreed, loving to be told she was loved. And what a way to wake up as well! Warm in her bed, and a man by her side though what her parents would say, god knows. It was amazing to be woken up this way, especially when she'd gone to bed so angry last night. Draco had attempted to kiss her, and that hadn't gone down too well with her.

Hermione's eyes shot open.

He'd attempted to kiss her.

What was to say, he hadn't succeeded?

True enough, Draco's face was leaning over hers with a blasphemous grin on his face. In other scenario (perhaps on their matrimonial bed) Hermione would've welcomed it with open arms, and lent in for another kiss. But all she felt was a rock-pool of horror gathering in herself, as he continued grinning churlishly. The first reaction Hermione had, was to slap him.

The second was to push him off her.

Hermione hugged herself protectively and winced, when Draco tried to reach out for her again. She wasn't thinking straight, so Hermione didn't really notice the ramifications of her cold body language on Draco. She was too busy thinking about keeping her secret (just a while longer) to worry about the rejection swimming in his face. Draco looked so utterly miserable, some of the boys watching bit their knuckles for him.

Hermione felt herself brimming with self-loathing.

Pansy was right.

She had to tell Draco the truth about herself, before they reached a point of no-return and he never forgave her. She wanted to tell him now, but all their spectators made Hermione think twice and burrow back into their bed. Draco continued staring at her back for a split second, before he got up and brushed himself off.

"Are you alright?" someone whispered.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat. "I'm fine."

**###**

It was their last day at The King's Castle. Much like their first night, when Pansy and her groupies shimmied their butts, King Albus wanted an equally stimulating but different performance to send them off. A travelling circus was booked, and even the servants were invited for an evening off. Of course, they still had to serve their masters and refill water jugs...but it wasn't their primary duty.

Today it was to have fun.

"I wonder which one of them would know Ronald," Ginny pondered, observing a line of men.

One of them flicked their pecs at her, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Two of them," Luna appeared out of nowhere, making her jump. "Statistically speaking two of them should know who your brother is. The King extended his invitation to every Brigade Head in the country and a trusted companion. Of course they would have to be here."

"Thanks," Ginny said warily. "Does the skies still predict tonight to be a disaster?"

"Yup."

"Good to know."

As the girls continued their brief chat, a mysterious carriage trundled past with beaded curtains and oriental patterns drawn on the side. Inside, a not-so-mysterious figure was polishing off his murder weapon. Snape raised the cross-bow to his eye, and aimed it at the imaginary King Albus. "Poof," he whispered, miming the arrow loose.

Snape was practically unrecognisable in his new disguise.

He'd tied his hair back, like a good boy and drawn a fake moustache on his upper lip, and a little goatee on his chin. He was clothed in asian robes, with a black belt around his mid-section. To make this farce seem realistic, King Voldemort had hired a little monkey by the name of Lily. Lily was a precocious little creature who liked scratching her own bum.

To top it all of, there was a talking parrot, a stilt walker and a man who could jump through hoops of fire.

In the corner, Lily gave a little chatter and expelled poop onto her little mat. The fumes of her defecation was enough for Snape to put down his cross-bow, and bang on the wall separating him from the driver of the carriage. "STOP!" he heared the man yelling, and the horses were brought under control with a quick spank. Snape was out of the carriage in an instant.

"Is everything alright, sir?" he heard the driver doubling up as the stiltwalker, ask nervously.

"No, it's not alright," he snapped. "I'm walking the rest of the way, because of that bothersome monkey."

...

Bothersome monkey or not, Lily had done her job well driving her master from the carriage. Snape used the window of golden opputunity to scope out the entire grounds and possible escape routes. It wasn't everyday an assasain strolled in, and strolled back out again.

Snape was anticipating a fight.

Come nightfall, everyone had gathered in the courts and were buzzing expectantly. A make-shit curtain had been placed up, so the night's entertainment could run back and forth with costume changes. It was here, Lily's cage was also stationed and Bernie, the parrot could sheild from the lights.

Hermione was one of the people gathered in the Great Hall. She'd spent the entire day hunting for Draco, but the golden boy appeared more elusive than a vampire bat. This was her last hope. There was no way in hell, Draco would miss such a spectacle.

Would he?

"PLEASE SEAT YURSELVES! PLEASE SEAT YURSELVES!"

Everyone laughed, as a tropical parrot flew from behind the curtain and wheeled in the air. As it continued cawking it's instructions, bird shit rained down on the audience. That caused everyone to duck, and inevitably end up on their bums. It was to great shock, Hermione realized she was sitting with Pansy.

The elder, exotic girl looked assured as ever.

"Have you told Draco yet?" she murmered.

"Yes," Hermione said, feeling panicked.

"Really?"

"No."

The show was starting. A man with very long stilts came on, and started juggling oranges. Hermione would've felt awe, if every so second she hadn't felt Pansy's arm brushing against her, reminding her evil was still present. They didn't talk for the rest of the show, until Snape came on in his awesome ninja costume. Immediately he wanted to pick someone from the audience, to be his "assistant."

Pansy waved her arm gracefully in the air, bangles tinkering and that was all it took.

"I would like to nominate my friend," she announced, and expectantly nudged Hermione's shoulder. Hermione wasn't paying attention. She'd just noticed Draco at the front of the Hall, sitting next to Thedore Nott with a pensieve look on his face. In the dark, it should've been hard for him to spot her, but yet...

But yet...

_He was looking right at her!_

The aftermath of his heated stare, combined with people pulling her to her feet, made Hermione stumble towards Snape. She didn't really know what was going on. But everyone's hands seemed to be pushing her towards this man.

Snape appraised her with calculation.

"Are you a man?"

"What?" Hermione squeaked.

"I said, _ARE YOU READY TO BE A MAN?"_

_"_Oh. Haha."

Snape gave her an exasperated look, and thrust the matching pair of robes he wore in her direction. Unwittingly, this boy had taken centre-stage in his assasaination attempt of Albus Dumbledore. Once the boy emerged from behind the curtains, that would be his cue to fire a cross-bow into the audience and use Hermione as a human shield. The execution would be very public, and Snape risked a great deal by carrying it through. But Voldemort had been very clear in his message- people needed to witness the massacre of their only hope before their very eyes.

"Change into this," he ordered, nodding at the curtains behind her.

Time was ticking. Hermione reluctantly accepted the garments, and shot a look over her shoulder. Although spotting Draco had been easy enough whilst sitting on the floor, all she could see now was a row of upturned heads. They all looked excited, and a little incensed she wasn't moving quicker.

She trundled into the safety of the thick fabric, and contemplated pulling the robe over her head. But the lights were searing, and Hermione didn't really see the harm of getting rid of her tunic first.

"Aaahhhh," she sighed, feeling free for the first time in ages.

She was so busy relishing the cool air, Hermione didn't notice two amber eyes observing her intelligently. Lilly chattered nervously, before reaching out an opposable thumb and undoing the latch to her cage...

One second, Hermione was _this _close to pulling on the robes, and the next she was being attacked by some furry animal. Lilly perched on her head, and Hermione let out such a shrill shriek and swatted at her head, that she nearly toppled over.

"GEROFF!" she hollered, swatting again.

Lilly giggled toothlessly, before swinging down and grasping hold of one end of Hermione's bandage. "Don't you dare," she warned, dangerously still. She didn't want to hit the monkey, she really didn't...but Hermione's patience wore out a little to quick, and she went to dismantle the monkey with ire. The quick footed little bugger, jumped to the ground and wrenched Hermione's bandages to her waist in the process.

Hermione's breasts were exposed.

Tearing up, Hermione covered her nipples just before the blasted monkey ran through the curtains and brought _that _crashing down too. Snape was telling the audience to calm down; he didn't understand the audible gasp that went through the crowd when Hermione was revealed.

"I'm not here to kill the King, I swear!" he ducked.

The colour started draining from Draco's face.

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><p><strong>AN: For the long wait, I'm sorry. Real life got in the way...(coursework/appling for UNI/revising/watching tv...hehe). My bday's in a few days too, so go me! :) **

**Hopefully the next update should be up soon. There's only 3/4 chapters to go till the end :(**

**Thanks to ALL the reviewers. I should go away more often. You review like crazy!**


	15. Betrayal of the Biggest Kind

**Grrr. Must that Share toolbar neccesarily be there? -)**

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><p>Theodore started laughing really loudly, and turned to his comrade. "Who would've thought?" he bared his teeth. "Using such a simple disguise to trick our hearts. I'm going to kill him!" he surged forward, as if he was really planning to vault onto the stage and run a sword through Hermes. But at the last minute, Draco lashed out a hand and grabbed Theo by the wrist.<p>

"Don't," was all he could say. "Don't kill her."

"What are you talking about?" Theo turned confused eyes on the blonde. "_Her? _What her? Look at the monkey bum getting away!"

Both their heads simultaneously turned to watch Snape edge nervously towards the exit doors. People on the ground, were just beginning to peg that he was actually _serious _and maybe they ought to do something about it. No eyes were on Hermione. The brief moment, when the curtain unveiled her true identity was long forgotten.

But Draco couldn't understand _how. _

He couldn't stop thinking about it- replaying the event at different angles and motions. Sometimes he would be just as dumbstruck as the first time, but others he would find himself embracing the joy that enveloped him. It wasn't a man he loved, it was a woman! Maybe his body could tell the difference, before his conscience ever could.

That really insulted his intelligence.

How many times had he watched the men bathe, without Hermes in the middle of them? He didn't peg then, did he? All he did was jokingly throw his tunic at Hermes head, and then undo the string that held his pantaloons up. Draco paled. She must have seen _everything. _Every single inch of him, and yet she didn't breathe a word. She must have enjoyed how naked and vulnerable he was, just like how he was feeling now.

And then what about the times, he pressed his body against hers? In the pretense of training? Lord, he should've sensed it then!

Ignorant, ignorant Draco.

Foolish, _foolish _Hermes.

Did she honestly believe she could get away with it? That she could misplace his trust, and disappear from whence she came? He was beginning to feel extremely cold, frost spreading from his toes and forming icicles in the places, that once gushed warm blood. His eyes slanted in the corners, making him look slightly evil and ready to commit murder.

"Uh, Draco?"

Theo nervously asked, yet to abandon his friend when he was clearly in a bad way. Theo was itching to throw himself into the fight that had errupted in the middle of the Hall, but only stopped himself because of Draco. It looked like his concerns were misjudged, because Malfoy growled, and agressively chased a naked back fleeing out of the stage door.

**###**

Hermione sequealed as she ran into a wall, aware someone was following her. She hoped to escape, before anyone caught up with her but she had felt this ominous presence ever since she left the Hall. Hot on her heels. Breathing down her back.

Pushing herself away with both hands, Hermione sprinted down the corridor in search of an exit.

Blasted be! She didn't recognise any part of this castle, and the person mocking her had yet to step out from the shadows. Clearly he(or she) knew the winding passages better then she did, and dashing down a couple, hadn't shaken them off. Every time she paused against a locked door, she heard shallow but volatile breathing drift down the passage.

Every time she frantically resumed her haste, the footsteps would resume theirs.

There was no escape.

Instead of slowing her down, this knowledge postively sped her up. She tried door handles with reckless abandon, and frisked pantings aside to see if there was a secret tunnel. At last, after one satisfying _crunch, _a door swung open into a large room with raised stone benches. Hermione immediately flung to her hands and knees, and desperately tried to wrench the garment (which she should've never taken off) back over her head again.

There was no bandages to gather her breasts.

Instead she felt them chafing together, as she kept low and started crawling towards the front of her prison. An heavy presence stepping into the room, made Hermione panic, and throw herself under a bench and huddle like a little girl.

A drawn-out sigh.

"Hermes."

Hermione had to prevent herself from an answering squeak. By clapping a hand over her mouth.

"I just want to ask a few questions. Nothing long, I promise."

Draco's boots travelled along the floor, until they glided to a stop beside the bench Hermione was hiding her. She willed him not to look. She willed with all her heart and soul, that he would not bend over and look. But fates coming into play, he did exactly that. When they came face to face, it was almost comical how they regarded each other. Him, with troubled grey eyes and clenched teeth, and her, with her silly hand still clasped over her mouth like _that _would do any good.

"There you are." He offered a gentlemanly hand, so gracefully, it was like if he was asking her to dance.

Against her better judgement, her hand began to reach out- and reach out further still- until her hand rested lightly in his feather-like grasp. For an instant, the mood was polite and courteous, his hand reassuringly closing over hers-

Before he wrenched her out into the open, screaming.

"DRACO!"

"You have no right!" He threw her back against the stone bench, and her hip gained a glancing blow. She was already wounded, and now he went in for the kill. "Don't ever say my name again! Not from those lips! Do you know how duplictious you've been? What am I saying? Of course you did! You probably amused yourself till Kingdom come, whilst you manupliated the minds of a few dozen men."

"No-"

"What exactly was your agenda? To see how much a man falls over, for a pretty face? Was I the only one who didn't know?" Malfoy was beginning to sound delirious, "How did the others manage to keep it secret? Unless they receieved a payment of kind-"

Hermione took two steps, and slapped him on the face.

A second later, she raised a shocked hand to her lips and backed away, when Malfoy turned to face her again. The slap seemed to have woken him a little bit. He looked a little more _here, _and lucid. In fact, the calculating look in his eye as he reached up to wipe the blood of his chin, scared the high heavens out of her.

"I'm sorry," she plantively pleaded. "I didn't want to, but you should've heard the nonsense you were spouting-"

"I heard."

"And it was just making me mad-"

"Was it?"

"And I _had _to do something, before-"

"Before I what?"

He stepped closer to her, and gathered her into his arms. The endorphin rush was giddy, as he pulled her hips against his taut stomach and she felt his hot breath, splayed over her collarbone, like a lovers caress. Hermione felt small in Draco's arms. Like his very being engulfed her in liquid fire, and made her core feel uncomfortably warm and slick.

"Before I did this?" Draco's hand descended, and hitched her leg over his hip. Hermione's breath came out in short pants, as he created the perfect cradle for his endowment to sink into. Draco let out a bitter laugh, when he realized there was no bulge in her pants to rub against his. All he was confronted with, was a slick velvety furnace that fit every contour as she rubbed up and down a little.

The little whimper/half-groan she did was enough to make him blow his load.

Of course, this had to feel sinfully good. The Gates of Hell, always were designed to tempt a mortal man. He was starting to feel jealous. The apparent easiness he'd got her to spread her legs open for him, was not lost on his quick-working brain. Had she done this before? Cradled someone else's appendage in that silky warmth? A vein was throbbing. The lack of knowledge, coupled with the deceit of her gender was enough to make him go spare.

"You lied to me," he hissed.

Hermione stiffened and withdrew slightly.

"Oh, there's no use of trying to cover it up now. All I know is that, by disguising yourself as a man and entering the King's institute, you've commited a major felony punishable by death."

He placed two hands on her upper arms, and leaned back to drink in her expression.

"That's right," he whispered. "I'm taking you back to The King's Guild. And then I will execute you."

**### **

They were speeding back to The King's Guild under the moonlit stars. Draco was right beside her, and every time the cart went over a pothole she was thrown against him. This should've been the happiest moment of her life- but as he uncaringly nudged her back into her corner- Hermione felt impending waves of doom swallow her. She kept begging him to save her life. At one point, she even offered a truckload of money.

But he shrugged of those suggestions, like they valued nothing.

Sometime in the early morning, Hermione attempted to throw herself off the cart. But Draco caught the neck of her tunic just in time, and threw her back against him. Hermione relished the feel of his pounding chest against her face, and kissed it slightly.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" he was yelling. "YOU COULD'VE BEEN KILLED!"

He was yelling other things too- but Hermione adoringly lifted up her head and gazed into his eyes. She was met with so much tulmultuous expressions, Hermione could see he cared behind the hard exterior, and harsh body language. At that moment, she could see he didn't want to kill her. Not really. But the soldier in him was protesting, and now a war raged to whether he followed his heart, and let her live- or whether he ran a sword through her, as soon as. Hermione hoped whichever one, it would be quick. It was killing her to be living in so much uncertainity.

The entire brigade was waiting for them, when they got back.

Unaware to the the grim mood, Neville let out a loud signal when he spotted their cart in the early morning sun. All the men stopped their individual tasks instantly, and came running to Neville's pleased face.

"They're back! They're finally back!"

"YES!"

"About time."

"At last Malfoy can feast his eyes on this glorious sight!"

Everyone turned to look at Seamus.

"What?" he shrugged. "I know he missed me."

"Like hell-"

"Pffft, Seamus we need to find you a woman-"

"A really _big one-"_

All the boys stopped squabbling like old fishwives, when the cart containing their beloved friends screeched to a halt. Most were there to greet Hermes, but some were even pleased to see Malfoy step out of the cart and observe them with glacial eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something (something important) but thinking it could wait, everyone converged on the pair and pretty soon, split them apart.

Hermione was surrounded by a wealth of admirers, whilst Draco handled a few. But ever so often, their eyes would meet, and it was pure pain.

A surprised giggle left her mouth, when Harry caught hold of her and spun her around the waist. Ron was angling for his turn, so pretty soon she was passed around like a piece of rare meat. Ron nuzzled into her hair, and caught her bark of laughter with a sly one of his own.

It was very bittersweet.

This seemingly happy reunion, was ruined when Draco stepped forward and let out a strangled noise, from the guttural part of his throat. Hermione instantenously froze in Ronald's grasp, and opened brimming eyes.

Draco was staring at her.

Harry noticed the queer dynamic between the two, and swung his head back and forth, trying to suss it out. He began to get an inkling, when his former tormentor turned his back on the partying troupe and started to disappear over the horizon. It would be a week before he reappeared again.

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><p><strong>Sooo. What did you think? :) Tell me in a review, so I actually know! Again, it was a longish wait but MANY PROPS deserve to go to "lia163" whom frequently PM's me about updates, and lets me know I can't get away with NOT updating. <strong>

**Also thank you for the birthday wishes last time! Beautiful -less than three-**

_Many years of good health to (I know, a weird way of saying thanks!)_:-**Salerio the Dragon -Waiting at the Kitchen Door -TheFantabulousPanda -nevertolatee -Written Angel -Arty -queenofgoblins -forbiddenluv -bushyhaired-american-nerd -REDRydingHood -Ulquishinee -Talis Ruadair -MuggleBornWY -Jakumo1 -smartpants trip4 -virginger -CheshireCat23 -fanficftw23 -smileylol -ThePowerOfTheTree -Trolololo -BlackDragonPrincess23 -moxmortuusdiabolis -MissLiquidLuck -Shy Sky Tears**

**NEXT CHAPTER: **Someone dies. (possibly!)


	16. Prisoner of War

**A/N: Wow, it's taken me less than 3 weeks this time. Improvement! :D**

* * *

><p>Neville hadn't meant to wet his bed, but ever since the jellyfish incident, small accidents like that were common all the time. Blushing crimson in the darkness, Neville rolled up the sheets and tucked them under his arm for a good wash. He would've departed too, if he hadn't heard furious whispers coming from <em>outside<em> the tent. He crept closer to the opening, and peeped out.

"I know something happened between you two. Why won't you tell me?"

Neville's mouth fell open, when Harry stepped up to Hermes and hugged him from behind. "Please," he begged.

"There's nothing _to _know, Harry. Can I resume my washing in peace?"

Hermione was holding a similar roll of clothes under her arm, like Neville was holding his bedsheets. He didn't assume the harm in Hermione's request, until Harry physically snatched the clothing from her and threw it on the ground. This forced the latter, to mutter colourful expletives and twirl on her feet. Neville's breaths came out in short, abrupt pants as the two boys squared off, with inches separating their face.

"It's been two days since you came back," Harry muttered into Hermes lips.

"And? Hencewith? You expect me to spill my guts?" Hermione muttered back.

"YES!"

"Fine! Draco found out, okay? He knows who I am. He stared me in the face, and said I faced federal execution."

"You mean..."

Neville tried desperately to catch a glimpse of Harry's face, as he delivered the words that could change _everything__. _But the pair were too heavily invested in each other, and all he could see was the tip of Harry's ear turning deathly white.

"..._he knows you're a girl?"_

Nevilled blinked once. Twice. He reached up a finger, and wriggled it around in his ear for a good few minutes. When that didn't work, he pinched himself on the arm just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. But the pinch faded away into an angry crescent mark, and Neville _knew _things would never be the same. He composed himself at a remarkable speed, and looked up just in time to catch Hermione nodding.

"God-dammit, Hermes!" Harry backed away, biting his knuckles. "You really don't listen to anything I say, do you? I told you not to fall in love with him! And what do you do? I _told _you, never tell him your secret...and it's like I've never warned you-"

"Harry."

"There's nothing for it now. You have to run. Never come back. I'm surprised Malfoy didn't machete your head the moment he found out- But of course, he's in love with you, isn't he? He wouldn't kill you if his life depended upon it!"

"We shouldn't do this so close to the tent-"

"What are you doing? _Run!"_

Pathetically, Harry tried to usher Hermione out of The Guild by doing the "shooing" motion. Even more pathetically, Hermione saw right through him. As Harry went back to knawing his knuckles, Hermione stepped closer and closer to him, until she was invading his personal space. She reached out a hand, and fisted it through Harry's tunic so she could drag his face down to her level.

"Harry. _I'm not going anywhere."_

"Yes, you are."

"No. I'm not. Look Harry, I've come to love each and every one of you in there (she nodded at the tent) And I'm not going to abandon this place, however many times you urge me. I have so many matters to clear up, not least with Draco and-"

Someone sneezed. For a moment, Hermione's mouth continued working but no sound came out. Harry was still observing her, with those electric green eyes of his. Neither of them clearly was guilty of that sneeze, but that brought about the even more frightening question of _who was. _Harry pushed Hermione out of the way, and started walking towards the tent- where Neville was hiding- and didn't pause until he pushed the flap open.

"There's no-one here," he called back.

"No, there was definitely someone listening in on us. We have to find him, Harry! He might spread it to the entire camp!"

"And you think Malfoy won't do that-?"

Neville screwed his eyes tightly, and hid beside Seamus's bed. He wanted to be tucked up (or even cowering) under his covers, but there had been too little time to launch himself across without arousing suspicion. Instead he prayed Harry wouldn't light a lamp, as Seamus's foot brushed against his nose.

"Ach! That tickles!" The Irishman laughed in his sleep.

_You're telling me, _Neville bared his teeth.

A second later, cold fingers wove into his hair and dragged him out into the open. Embarrassingly, it wasn't even Harry who'd outed him, but a rather sleepy Seamus surprised to find a man waiting at the bottom of his bed. Thinking no more of it, he dragged Neville up his naked body and wrapped his legs around the surprised boy's waist. He moaned, when fresh contact was made between gentials and soft fabric.

"Ooooooooooh...That hits the spot."

All that could be heard for the next few minutes, was loud screaming as the entire tent stuggled awake. When Harry loomed over them shortfly after, with a burning oil lamp, it made Neville scream all the more harder.

"Wait...Neville..."

The poor boy couldn't help it. He passed out.

**###**

A lot happened in the 24 hours, Neville was lost from the land of the living. He entered unconciousness a free man (albeit traumistised) and woke up, in the midst of battle preparations. Shortly after he passed out, a quick footed messenger relayed the news they'd all been hoping wouldn't come for another month. Voldemort had sprung a sneak attack from Calais, and Dover was already conquered.

For Hermione, it was a brutal hit home.

Voldemort had struck in the sneakiest way imaginable. He hadn't set a time, or date for them to engage in official war. That would've allowed Britain to barricade the country, by sending reinforcements down to Dover and sealing the only way in.

Instead, 30 were already dead and the rest taken as prisoners. A few women from the neighbouring villages had also been raped, and killed. At last count, a few hundred french men were marching towards London, in hope of relieving this country of it's monarchy.

And then, Voldemort had a clear path to it's throne.

"WHERE IS MALFOY?" Harry was roaring. Understandably, he was in a panic because their leader was not there. There was no line of command. Everyone was looking at each other, with equal measures of confusion and apprehension.

"We're all gonna die," someone was whimpering. "They are only two daylights away!"

"We don't have any time to prep ourselves. Not when Malfoy's on walkabouts." That was Ron, the last person Harry wanted to see loosing hope. The lanky ginger was morosely staring out into the darkening sky, hand draped over his belt. Harry willed the boy to lean down and pick up a sword, with some fighting spirit behind it. At this rate, only he and Hermes were going to defend the guild against penetration.

And one of them was a girl!

"DON'T LISTEN TO POTTER, PEOPLE!" Hermione was yelling. "HAVE SOME FAITH IN YOUR LEADER! HE **WILL** TURN UP! HE **WILL **LEAD US INTO VICTORY!"

Harry rolled his eyes, when rousing applause greeted her outburst.

"That man is something else," Ron was saying admiringly from his post. "We're facing certain death, and he's still bleating on about Malfoy!"

"Well, they're in love with each other," Harry muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh. Nothing to worry about. Is that Neville waking up?"

Indeed, Longbottom was stirring awake when a shadow fell over him. He slowly nudged his eyelids open, to only see Harry Potter's grim face as he reached out for Neville's neck. The boy let out a shrill scream, and collapsed into unconciousness again.

"Why does he keep _doing _that?"

"I don't know." Harry was nonplussed. "I was only trying to fluff his pillow."

**###**

Hermione's wavering hope in Draco diminished little by little, as each hour ticked on. She began to feel angry with him, but of course didn't let the others see that, because then that would be admitting defeat. The few times she'd burst out into inspirational rallies, she found herself believing less and less, until the words coming out of her mouth sounded very hollow.

Draco Malfoy had a lot to answer for, when she saw him again.

Being tempermental with _her_ she could understand, but when he let personal feelings get in the way of being a leader, that's when things really became lousy. She was starting to think Draco didn't think much of her at all. Or maybe it was the other way round, and he thought _too _much.

Oh, the imbecilic fool!

"Psst. Hermes."

If only he got his sorry hide-

"_Hermes."_

"What?" Hermione snapped, not meaning to scare Ronald in the process.

"We need to get all the townspeople inside. I'm starting to think we don't have a chance otherwise."

"Go on."

"Think about it. Voldemort's men (a few hundred of them, I might add!) are marching non-stop towards The Guild. Voldemort knows we are the only thing blocking him from the path to the castle. If we gather everyone inside these gates, then maybe no-one has to die. We could hole up for months, until the reinforcements arrive!"

"But the living conditions-"

"Will be awful, I know. But we can turn a blind eye to this, if everyone comes out okay! Right?"

"Harry-"

"Harry doesn't know about this, _and," _he forcibly said, when it looked like Hermes was going to argue. "Doesn't need to know. It's just you and me Hermes. Let's go out to the lower town, right now, and bring people in."

Hermione spluttered, impressed with Ron's initiative but also slightly scared of the bleak picture painted. If Draco had been here, he would definitely whipped their butts into shape and made them fight, whatever came their way. _This _almost seemed too cowardly, but would probably save a lot more lives. Hermione was torn between what Draco would do, and what she, herself would choose if it came down to her.

"OK," Hermione said slowly. "Let's do this."

...

...

...

"I think that's the last of them," Ronald dusted his hands off, as the last woman bearing child crossed over to their side. "Shall we lower the gates now?"

"Sounds about right," Hermione said distractedly, wondering what was wrong with the picture. A lot of women, and quite a good few men with children had entered their gate, but there was still someone she hadn't seen...No, it wasn't Malfoy, who she was beginning to doubt was ever going to turn up. It was someone else...a man...so tall, he could've been mistaken for a giant...and for a while, he'd been terribly upset because she hadn't kept her promise.

God, who was it?

"G.."

"G.." she tried.

"Grrrrr..."

"Grrrawp! Grawp! That's it!"

"Huh?" Ronald was puzzled over her enlightenment. "Was that a yes?"

"No."

"Why are you confusing me?" Ron scratched his head, looking lovable.

Hermione reached up to kiss him on the cheek, and sternly instructed him not to close the gate until she brought a few more people through. Chances were Grawp could've escaped to the countryside when he heard Voldemort was approaching. Some of the other Lower Townspeople had already done that, and Hermione didn't exactly blame them.

But she had to check. She _had _to make sure.

Which was stupidly, how Hermione got caught.

**###**

Rapid yells of French and loud stampedes of trench boots, warned Hermione that venturing outside would get her killed. Oh, she wasn't inside The Guild. If only! Rather she was half a mile away, squatting in some random person's house waiting for the worst. She hadn't expected Voldemort's army to reach London so quickly, and in her arrogance walked the deserted roads of the town as if she had nothing to hide.

Next thing she knew, a loud battlehorn sounded in the distance and blue feathered helmets started appearing over the horizon.

She was screwed.

What better way to put it?

_"Lâches. Ils fuient devant nous!" (Cowards. They flee before us!)_

_"Ils fuient vers la mort." (They flee towards death.)_

"Heh," Hermione said faintly. "Those french lessons come in handy after all."

_"S'il n'y a pas de femmes au viol?" (Are there no women to rape?) "Les enfants de mutiler?" (Children to maim?)_

"That certainly didn't come up in french lessons," Hermione tittered. "Thank God for books, eh?"

**BANG! **Hermione was waiting, when the door that was shielding her was finally kicked open by a boot. The frenchman hadn't been expecting her, so was all too eagar to fall upon her sword as she drove it deep and square into his gut. Another frenchman spotted her, and cried out _"ICI!" (Here!) _so other soilders would stop kicking down doors, and focus on their new target.

"SENTIR MA LAME!" _(Feel my blade!) _Hermione yelled, as she twirled the sword above her head and faced them off.

Her advanced sword-fighting technique helped all of 5 minutes, before the frenchmen tired off her and closed in. One kicked her cruelly in the back, making her fly face forward to the ground and let go off to her sword. To her credit, she didn't clutch her wrist and go "_Ow. Ow. Ow" _like she would've done months ago. Instead she spread out her arms, and prepared to die.

_"Qu'attendez-vous? Le saisir!" (What are you waiting for? Seize him!)_

She wasn't dying. Why wasn't she dying? Oh, that's right. They were "seizing" her, taking her as prisoner until her fate was decided. Hermione let herslef be man-handled from the floor, and towards a filthy cart where she knew all the prisoners were kept. There wasn't just one cart too. There was _loads _of them, though Hermione suspected some prisoners would be killed just to make room for more.

To confirm suspicion, a dead body was dragged out of one of the carts, just before she thrown into it.

"THAT WAS MY FRIEND, YOU BASTARD!" the person next to her vented, grabbing hold of the wooden bars on the window and rattling it. "YOU FINISH ME OFF NEXT, YOU HEAR?"

_He's definitely going next, _Hermione reckoned before slumping to her knees. The voice even sounded familiar, like she had heard it in the distant past.

"YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD-!"

"Stop it."

Hermione wasn't aware she had berated him, until she had grabbed a handful of the man's pantaloon and pulled him down. He turned to her, eyes flashing wildly in the darkness, but was cut short when recognition punched him in the stomach. That was Hermes sitting next to him! Which only meant Draco wasn't far behind, and he would surely get them out of here.

"I can't believe it! It really is you!"

Hermione widened her eyes.

"Theo? What are _you-"_

She stopped herself, before she could ask the rest of the question. It was pretty obvious what Theo was doing here, when she full well knew he was stationed at Dover and that's where Voldemort had been first. The poor boy. He was lucky to escape that hijack alive. Hermione gathered him in her arms, and let him seek solice he would be hardplaced to find anywhere else.

Pretty soon, his stiff exterior melted away into slight hiccups.

"I can't take it anymore- _hic- _People keep dying every night. Good people -_hic- _And it's not slow either. They like torturing."

"I'm so sorry, Theo."

"Don't be. When's Draco coming?"

Hermione stopped patting him, and cast surprised eyes downward. She forgot Draco and Theo were buddies in another life- worthy of a telepathic link to be taken advantage off when one of them was in distress. In Theo's mind, Draco was already circling the prisoner's camp, biding his time to waltz in and murder all the villians who dared to lock them up. Hermione didn't have the heart, to tell him that wasn't going to happen.

"Very soon. Don't worry about it." The blatant lie made Hermione blink away her own grief.

That night, the stench of death was washed away by sizzling barbecue and a roaring fire. The frenchmen had decided to set up camp close to the place where Hermione was captured. As the prisoners watched, they slaughtered a wild pig and started roasting it over the fire. Rich Bacon. Fried Egg. Buckets of ale. It made even Hermione, a well-fed girl, clutch her stomach and moan in angst.

"Is this what you meant by torturing?" she panted.

Theo was sitting back and observing her, an odd glint in his eye.

"Not even."

She later found out what Theo meant. It was quite common, to couple dinner with some evening entertainment. Since there was no women to striptease, there was outcries for a prisoner to be released so they could beat them up.

She was chosen.

Theo watched heartsticken, as Hermes was lead out into the opening surrounded by a bunch of men. They grabbed her hair and forced her face to the ground. They kicked her stomach. At one point, they were even kicking her head in. Hermione didn't have time to play self-defense, and even then, it would be pointless when there was 20 men ganging up on 1. She did the best that she could- by curling up like a baby, and throwing her arms over her head.

All the other prisoners watched with little sympathy. Each and every one of them had gone through the same treatment, when they first arrived. It was a given for the newbie to be treated like hell, until the next one took her place.

Theo placed a hand over Hermione's chest, when she was thrown back in.

"Poor girl," he whispered, a tear trickling down his face.

**###**

When Neville woke up for the last and final time, Harry Potter was close to loosing it. Which was a relief, because that meant he wasn't hovering over Neville with a lamp, or anything else!

"How could you let a _girl _leave by herself?"

"To be fair Harry, how were we supposed to know?" Seamus looked livid.

"I can't believe...you kept that away from me..." Ronald sat down heavily, contrary to how lightheaded he felt.

"I don't believe you," another boy Dean, lamented. "You can't just accuse Hermes of being a girl, like that. Not when he's here to defend himself."

"It's true."

Harry looked over sharply to Neville's bed, and found the boy wide-awake and raring to go. "I heard it with my own ears. Saw it with my own eyes."

"Hermes is a girl..." Ron muttered, still unable to come to terms with it.

"YES!" Harry shouted, suddenly fed-up. "HERMES IS A GIRL! A BIG FAT GIRL! GURLY WURLY IN MY TWURLY!" He started to bang his chest with both fists. "I CAN'T KEEP IT IN ANYMORE! NOT TO MYSELF! SHE'S A GIRL! HOW COULD YOU LET HER GO?"

"She's probably dead," Seamus fumed. "Serves her right. Tricking us like that."

Someone started laughing from the corner of the tent. It didn't sound happy, or even delirious but as each second passed by, Harry was un-nerved by how hollow it sounded, just like Hermione when she didn't believe in what she was saying. A tall, fit young man stepped away from the shadows. His blond hair became apparent to all, except it wasn't long and silky...but short and spiky.

Malfoy.

"You let her be taken away?" he said, tone threatening.

Gasps arose.

"_He knew?"_

"A bit late to show you actually care," Harry said firmly, furious the man who ditched them could so easily enter their lives. Where had he been for the past week? Did he know War has started? Here he was meant to be leading them to victory, but in reality he wasn't even close. He opened his mouth, to give loose to a lot more things- but was surprised by Malfoy's reaction.

He resumed laughing.

"Good. The French can take care of her for me."

"But-" (_Don't you love her?)_

"I don't see the problem. Besides that liar, we have everyone else in The Guild safe and sound. To me, that's all that matters. We can rally up and actually come up with battle plans, between us men."

"You don't care if she dies?"

Harry was hoping to catch Draco out, by something that betrayed what he was actually saying. But besides a suspicious twinkle in his eye, and his mouth curving into an unhappy tight line, there was nothing.

"No."

"Who's the liar now?"

Malfoy was really surprised to see Weasley getting in on the act. From what he witnessed, the ginger had been shell-shocked when Harry revealed the truth about Hermione's gender. So, why was he now acting the matyr and questioning his feelings? He didn't care, he didn't care...but the dying body of Theodore Nott was soon going to change all of that in about...oh, an hour?

Life was cruel.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So everyone knows now! And we're only 2 chapters away from the end! How about a round of applause of the awesomely long chapter? (lol, longer than usual anyway)**

**Also...I am so tantilisingly close to 300 hundred reviews...just nine away. That's all ask :) Please help me reach that target!**

**I would've posted this on Sunday, but my laptop died in the middle of writing this. I took that as a sign, not to resume until I (and the laptop) were well rested! lol. Hence the update todayyy :)**

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**Next chapter: Penultimate chapter. Expect lots of drama. Romance. Things being tied up. Please nobody beg me for a sequel (lol. I'm joking but being oddly serious at the same time.)**


	17. Garçon with a blue helmet

Something was strange. After depositing Hermes back in their stylised container, the frenchmen displayed a restlessness that was out of the ordinary. Maybe it was because they sensed they were so close to the Guild. They could have easily reached it, if they hadn't decided to call it quits after finding Hermes.

The guard standing outside; suddenly stood to attention.

"Tenir à l'écart. Les hommes ont besoin d'une autre distraction." (_Stand aside. The men need another distraction.")_

"Oui."

Hermione tensed, when she saw a shiny helmet duck under the rim of the door, and peruse the prisoners, like they were pigs about to be slaughtered. Theo, defiant to the core, stood up and attempted to rush the lieutenant. He was immobilized with a sword to the neck.

"Out!" he barked in crude english, the blade in danger of nicking Theo's skin. "You need a lesson!"

"Don't you mean _teach _me a lesson?" Theo dug the hole deeper.

Hermione gasped, wanting to tell him to put a sock in it, especially when there was no guarantee of escape. Her eyes clouded in and out of focus, but she was aware, he was being lead to a similar beating she had earlier. In fact, the screams kind of was a dead giveaway.

"Stop killing him," she murmured, frustrated it didn't have a presence.

"It's no use, dear." An elderly woman sniffed. "They're just barbaric primates."

"What are they doing to him?"

"Things I wouldn't let a young child see."

"Can you...?"

Hermione wasn't asking for a running commentary as such, but she wasn't at the peak of physical fitness right now, and she wanted to keep a track of Theo. The elderly woman was still beadily watching the scene unfolding, and gave a little gasp and turned her face away.

"What?" Hermione asked. "What's happening?"

"Trust me, darling. It's nothing good."

"Is he okay?" she tried to prop her elbows against the ground. "Is he coming back?"

"Rather the opposite, I'm afraid," the woman drew her shawl around her, like she was warding off evil. "They've put him on a horse, with parchment tied around his ankle. They're sending a message."

Hermione rolled over, and peered through the bars, just barely making out the rump of a horse, shifting agitatedly in the darkness. There was a blur, seated on the saddle, but try as she might, she couldn't catch his face. It was rather worrying how he lay limp across the mane, with arms dangling down the side.

A frenchman took hold of the reins, and started guiding the horse towards the Guild, to loud rapturous cheers.

**###**

"There's something riding against the wind. It's coming fast."

In unison, thirty arrows pointed towards the horizon, ready to fly with startling accuracy. Malfoy was pacing on the roof of the Library, chosen for it's unique vantage point, and let a short noise of dissent. "Hold," he cried out. "Not yet."

His sharp eyesight picked out the prostate body of a man, lassoed to a horse, as it cantered quickly towards the gates. If someone didn't catch hold of the animal, it would crash headfirst into the barricade. He ordered two men to abandon their positions, and hurry down to greet the stricken beast.

Ron was adamant it was trap. "Sod it! Shoot! Shoot!"

Malfoy coughed threateningly.

This was enough for Ron to peer around, realise no-one was keen to follow his orders, and shut up. He watched, pale-faced, as the gates were opened and the horse galloped straight through. It had a nasty burn on it's hindquarters, like someone had pressed a branding iron against it's skin, as a "motivation" factor to keep up it's speed.

Draco lent forward and gripped the wall, following the perimeter of the roof.

"Theo!"

"Excuse me, is that someone you know?" Ron said in disbelief. "I didn't know you had a horse as a friend. Wait. Why is your horse-friend coming in to say hello? Surely he knows we're in the middle of a seige?"

"Uh, Ron." Harry looked embarrassed for Ron's sake.

"Yeah?"

"I don't think he's referring to the horse."

"All right then, clever clogs. Who is he referring too?"

Draco was the already running towards the stairwell, leading down into the courtyard. He cleared the last few steps and saw Theo had been placed on the ground, blood staining his tunic. He pushed past his two comrades, and kneeled beside his old partner, immediately feeling for a pulse.

It was weak, and fluttering weakly against his neck.

"Draco..."

"Don't speak. It will kill you quicker."

"There's someone I left behind..."

"I don't care who it was. At least you're here."

"Bastard."

Theo smiled, closing his eyes, and feeling precious time slipping through his fingers. Draco was displaying that cruel side of him, as if he didn't care if Theo left behind a woman, or a child. Just because he didn't speak of any, it was rude of him to make an assumption that he was speaking of a stranger.

"It's Hermes...you need to go back..."

"Theo-"

"Hermes is not what you think! He's a woman! At least, I think he's a woman, but even if he isn't- he's your _friend. _You can't just sit back, when you know there's a chance he's alive."

"Theo." Draco furrowed his eyebrows, frustrated he wasn't listening to advice. The longer he talked, the more he could feel the life draining out of him. It was scary. Theo hadn't even passed the veil, but his body was cooling down, close to reaching air temperature. Which was a balmy 18 degrees.

"Sir."

A note was handed to him, retrieved before Draco saw it. He didn't bother looking at it, certain it was of victory cries and a command to engage in a battle of arms the next morning. Sending the horse was a clear message. They were a close, unbearably so, probably sharpening their knives within a mile radius.

"Aren't you going to read it?" Harry had followed him, alongside a few others.

"Get back to your positions!"

"Honestly," Seamus crossed his arms. "Hermes been captured, and needs rescuing. I'm pissed she deceived us about being a woman, but even that doesn't warrant execution by the french."

"Saves me from beheading duty," Draco muttered.

Theo was long gone. Draco withdrew his arms, and placed a palm over his vacant eyes.

"Potter."

"Yes?"

"Call the maids and ask them to arrange a funeral pyre. After that, I want you to ride up North, and send word we need all troops to march down to Dover."

"But we need men here!"

"Potter."

"Yes?"

"I'm not asking, I'm commanding you as an outranking senior."

Harry was livid about the order, but he could sense a plan within the madness. The Guild was home to a few soldiers, but if they wanted to manoeuvre a resounding win, they needed to bulk up their numbers. There was a large post in Kent, and Sussex, only a few hours walk away. They could reach London by noon tomorrow.

The horse that carried Theo, collapsed, clearly on it's last legs.

It would have staged a stampede, if it wasn't so exhausted and maltreated. Experience taught Draco not to pat the mane or attempt to whisper to it in comfort. He reached for the note he screwed up and placed in his pocket earlier, suddenly hungry to devour it's contents.

_War will be declared at 6:00 am tomorrow._

_There will be no mercy._

**_###_**

"Ya, what?" Ron stared, bug-eyed. "You wanna launch a sneak attack? _Now?"_

Draco stared evenly back, Harry long dispatched.

"But I haven't even eaten dinner," Ron whined.

"You still can," Draco shrugged. "Nobody's stopping you. But it has to be en-route, and nothing noisy, like a crunchy apple. The last thing we want is some dimwitted idiot to whistleblow our location."

"This is so...sudden."

"It's not like _we_ got a warning," Neville snapped. "Voldemort did the exact same thing to us, didn't he? Just invading us out of the blue, when we least bloody expected it."

Draco was surprised at Neville's outburst, reconsidering his position in the group. Neville was always the one, who lacked the skill to be a very good soldier, but a passion was lurking there, perhaps greater than any extroverted man could feel. Keeping things bottled up, was a fantastic way for things to brew.

"If this stops even one life being taken," Dean nodded. "Then I'm in."

"So am I."

"Me two."

"I suppose..." Ron hesitated.

All five of them were adjourned in swords, and Draco was a skilled archer, so he brought along a bow and arrows. The rest of his brigade, were being left behind to guard the townspeople, incase there was retaliation against their back-door method. They were travelling light, and on foot, and not carrying any torches.

It was pitch black, but as it was, the sky was awash with stars.

Dean was an adept astrologer, so he was able to position them, every few yards away from the Guild. The French were being remarkably arrogant. They were occupying the lower town, with roaring campfires and loud, drunken arguing. Draco wondered if they were making a joke, when they mentioned a 6AM start.

Who knew.

Maybe they weren't planning to sleep at all, which made the task undeniably more tricky.

They waited two hours for the general bustle of the soldiers to die down. A lookout was stationed outside each of three tents, kept teetotal just for this purpose. As the last one crashed inside, Draco reacted instinctively, and sent three consecutive arrows fly into the air.

Ron squeaked.

"It's better to take their armour," Draco suggested. "It will give us a transparency to walk around their camp undetected."

"But what if they rumble us?" Ron again. "I can't speak French! Can you speak French?"

"_D'accord." _Draco narrowed his eyes. "Next thing you'll be telling me you can't speak Latin."

"Latin? _LATIN?!"_

_"_Sssshhhh." Dean hissed.

Draco doubled over in half, and ran across the broken camp to the bulkier lookout, and relieved him off his helmet. The chained vest was something that automatically weighed him down. He almost considered not wearing it. But for this charade to hold, he needed to disguise the unique lilt of his shoulders.

"Psst, monsieur!"

He nearly jumped out of his skin. It was funny how the heart reacted, when it felt like it deserved to be caught. But the urgent whisper was not from inside the tent, or rather the adjourning twins. He followed it around the curve, and saw a cage full of prisoners.

An old lady was calling out for him.

"S'il vous plaît, monsieur. Peut-on avoir l'eau?" (_Please, sir. Can we have water?")_

"Non."

"Il n'est pas pour moi. C'est pour cette pauvre enfant." _(It is not for me. It is for this poor child.")_

Draco was not tempted to scourage for a water goatskin, but luckily there was one strapped to his hip. He carefully unravelled the ribbon holding it close, and held it high in a tilted fashion, like he would pour it in her mouth.

"Garde!" (_Guard!)_

Malfoy froze.

"Qu'est-ce que tu fais?" (_What are you doing?")_

The water was carefully tipped to the ground, wetting his shoes, and draining into the soil. He paused with baited breath, and waited for the frenchmen to return back to his tent from where he came. This was followed by a few baited minutes, when the soldier took deliberate steps in Malfoy's direction.

Come on...Come on...

"Return to your post!"

"_Oui."_

Instantly a sword was pressed against his nape. Draco let go off the goatskin, and held his hands up to show he was no threat. What gave the game away? His fingers dove down, to the sword that would remedy this situation. But the frenchmen hissed, and clucked him like he was a naughty schoolchild.

"Naw. Naw. The men zere do not undeestand a werd of Anglais."

"Vous nous discréditer." (_You discredit us.)_

_"_Nay. Nay. You may drop ze act, anglais man."

The imprisoned woman watched with wide eyes, as the guard was instructed to step inside the cage. The guard wasn't fighting much, strangely, and obeyed his comrade to locating the keys hanging on a doornail, out of reach of it's captees inside and unlocking the wooden latch.

"Go inside. That's it."

Draco took a ready step in.

"Ah. Ze helmet, s'il vous plaît."

He reached for the blue feathered monstrosity and lobbed it a fair distance into the night sky. Everyone was gawking at the short, blond-haired man who was scanning the hay for a good place, to sit cross-legged. He spotted Hermes lying unconcious on the ground, and staggered towards her.

"Stop!"

The people were huddling towards each other, venomous.

"You are a traitor, frenchman. My wife died because of your brothers!"

Draco laid out beside Hermione, and tucked his arm to support his head. His eyes were unwaveringly focused on the shallow jets of air exiting her nostrils. He wanted to touch her, to see if she was broken, but he didn't know where to start. Now he was seeing her again, he wondered how life could be any different.

He felt robbed, even though she was there.

How could he say he didn't care? He cared very much.

Outside, there was a commotion, and then two others were being wrestled into the little cell. Neville and Ron were thrown onto the ground, but weren't asked for their helmets back. They jumped to the feet, and Ron was particularly indignant about his capture, turning the air blue with his unsophisticated vocabulary.

He pointed a finger at Draco.

"Aren't you going to ask me how I got caught?"

"Well, go on then."

"I don't speak French! I _told _you I don't speak French! What's the first thing that scary dude asks me? _Blah blah blah j'adore blah blah blah."_

"He didn't say _j'adore," _Neville said, nonplussed. "Do you even know what it means?"

"Who cares? Now, we're all stuffed. Malfoy, you're not even attempting to find a way out! All you're doing is dry-humping some poor guy in his sleep, who looks like he's about to die anyway, so why you're dabbling in necrophilia beats me, but then you were some crazy whack, because you lead us straight into _this- _and hello? Are you even listening?"

"Shut up, Weasley."

"We're going to get killed! You didn't even try to fight back there! Why lead us here to be killed, if we weren't going to fight? Four good men put their trust into you, and you just abused it to tragic proportions. The whole sneak attack thing was a lie, so you could trick us in sacrificing our lives-"

"Ron. _Look."_

Neville tugged Ron's sleeve and urged him to properly look at the face lying next to Malfoy's. Under the dark tangles, a familiar face was sitting under a network of bruises. Hermes was lost to his ranting, and Draco was quickly following her. Ron noticed the seat of her pants was particularly bloody.

"What's that?"

"If that's not conclusive proof, Hermes is a woman, than I don't know what is."

"Huh?" Ron glanced back, confused. He had a little sister, Ginny, and sometimes she complained about the monthly cycle. It was that time of the month, where supposedly blood exited the...

Ron fell to the ground, in a dead faint.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Nostalgia is a powerful thing. I logged into this account for the 1st time in ages and I nearly crumbled O.o lol, joking. But I'm posting these last 2 chapters, 90% for me and 10% for any readers left out there.<strong>

_Last but not least, thanks too :_** Hair Like Starlight, REDRydingHood, Soapie7, biggest fan, , CharmMe4You, CheshireCat23, KraZiiePyrozHavemoreFun, Beccaaa, dragonfly1339, Analaa, .i' , SUMMERG97, Talis Ruadair, virginger, bushyhaired-american-nerd, queenofgoblins, TomboyishRandom, . Joan d'Arc.x, sweeteandcookies. twilightluvr001, Shubhs, Rhiose, Morphine Slumber, Lya Darkfury, TheTwoGirls, Inconceivable Me, len, KristenHigg96, Musette Fujiwara, Guest, Guest and 1sunfun.**

**Anonymous reviews:**

_**biggest fan:** Yes, I did have a plan, I executed it, teehee._  
><em><strong>Beccaaa:<strong> Thank you, love u_  
><em><strong>len:<strong> It's a bit late, but here's the update x_  
><em><strong>KristinHigg96:<strong> Unfortunately, I can't be held accountable for what your friend told you, or didn't tell you. Yes, this story isn't completed, but it will be. Thank you for the sweet review, it's readers like you, I write for :D_  
><em><strong>Guest:<strong> I'm not sure if both "Guests" were the same person, forgive me if you aren't, but I'm gunna treat you like you are :) Yes, you are right...it's been a year since I updated (& then some) but no, this story isn't abandoned. I agree with a fact, a lot of fanfics I read get abandoned, but I guess I mellowed out, because in my old age I just apprec8 the half-written stories if they're well-written, and dream of what could've been. LOL. Checck me out_


	18. A Little Swordplay

Hermione was still unconscious, when the French army began to move out of camp. The prisoners were left behind; considered a hinderance rather than a bartering tool. She was awoken by a kiss to the lips. There was an indignant outcry, but it didn't stop the person above her, from kissing her in the same place.

Her hands instinctively curved around his elbow, and pulled him closer.

Draco rolled to the side, because he didn't want to crush her with his weight. Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and saw a man she only now saw in her dreams. "D-Draco?"

"I'm glad you're awake," he whispered. "Now you can be a willing participant in your own deflowering."

From somewhere to the side, there was a retching noise.

"Dude!" Ron cried. "She's on her _fucking _period."

Hermione groaned in torture, as Draco lifted his head to answer back. She had no idea how he ended up in her arms, but she wasn't going to question this godsend. The evil, venomous-spitting Draco she had last parted with had now been replaced by someone altogether more agreeable.

"I know that!" Draco gave Ron the evil eye. "I'm not suggesting we do it _now." _He turned back to look at Hermione, a faint smile on his lips. "We'll do it when she's more _receptive _to my advances, and the war is over."

"OVER?" Ron pointed out of the cage they were still trapped in. "Cocky, aren't we? Especially since we're on the verge of surrendering! Will you quit looking at Hermes like that? You're ruining my appetite."

Draco ignored what Ron was dribbling on about, and continued looking at Hermione in a fond manner. A few men had been positioned outside as lookouts, but proving the French never got the memo, Neville saw arrows fly into the air and spear them to the wooden bars of the cage. In the distance, loud battlehorns were sounding as Dean and Seamus flitted out of the surrounding woodland, poised to do their bit.

The other two members of the party had kept themselves hidden, sensing it was the best way to help the other three. Neville watched beadily, as the dead body slumped over the entrance, was thrown aside.

"Neville!" Dean looked frantically around. "Are you all right? Can you stand up?"

"Of course he can," Ron sniped irritably. "He's not an invalid."

Draco twisted around, so he could take stock off the situation but was stopped by Hermione, clutching to his tunic.

"T-Theo...?"

"I know," he placed a hand over hers. "I know."

Dean had spotted the cage key hanging on the doornail, and wrestled with it until it came off the hook. He hurriedly put it in the lock, and twisted, and Ron became aware of vetted interest from the other prisoners. Their eyes had hardened, and were pawing the ground with their feet, like they were arranging a stampede.

In their frenzied state, Ron wondered if they could even differentiate between allies and enemies.

"Dean, you might want to get out of the way."

"OK."

Not a moment later, the other prisoners made a bid for freedom. Neville helped Draco drag Hermione back into a corner, so they had less chance of being crushed to death. Ron screamed, and ran outside to join Dean and Seamus. The latter was carrying a pigeon, with a note tied around the claw. The pigeon stared up at Ron, and puffed up his feathers, like he was preparing for round two of mating.

"What's in the note?" Ron panted.

"I don't know, mate. It's not letting me touch its leg."

"What a prick."

"Hey," Dean suddenly looked contemplative. "It likes _you, _Ron. Give it a go."

Feeling the pressure, Ron reached out and slightly stroked its leg. The pigeon let out a loud noise, similar to a purr, and bobbed in Seamus's hand like it was being stimulated. Ron felt irritated, that the only thing attracted to him, was some dried up old bird.

He detached the note, and recognised the familiar writing.

"It's from Harry!"

"What does it say?" Draco had exited the gate, resuming his arctic persona.

"Lemme see..._Word has been sent to Kent and Sussex. They had begun marching. Most will continue to Dover, with other counties on the move, but a small fraction will arrive to the Guild by the next hour. Success is finally in our favour. Harry."_

"Good." Draco nodded, "Fantastic. The Guild should hold up another hour."

"You mean...?" Neville gaped. "We actually have a chance?"

"More than a chance," Draco confirmed. "Guaranteed victory. The enemy made a risky move by sending a small battalion first, but he will quickly rectify that, by sending more. That is why it's vital to plug the only way into this country." Such a beautiful thing to be an island. "Then we launch a risk offensive off our own, but this time it'll work."

"What is it?" All his men were eager to learn.

Draco smiled tightly, realising it was not his secret to be divulged. After Snape had been captured, several men had been tasked with cracking him. Water torture, nails being pulled out...none of it worked, until Lily was mentioned. The monkey had been wheeled in, and a sword placed to her neck.

After that, Snape was all ears.

So now they had a secret agent on their hands, willing to assassinate Lord Voldemort. Yes, Draco had witnessed a lot in that week he vanished from camp, after learning of Hermes deception.

"Another time, men. Another time. For now, there is a battle to be won."

"But what about Hermes?" Neville worried.

"She will be safe, perhaps to fight another day."

**###**

Neville knew what it was like to miss the action, so he could reminisce about what Hermes would feel like when she woke up. He had been given the duty, of feeding her and watering her, until she was capable of doing it herself. The battle had been a grisly one, lasting six hours and a bit, until the last man fell.

The French had been taken surprise by the reinforcements, but ultimately they couldn't respond.

It had given the men great pleasure, to capture the remaining French, and force them into their own contraptions. Harry, Ron and Draco made regular checks on her, and then visited the rest of the wounded, so people wouldn't think Hermes was getting preferential treatment.

A week later, Draco was untying his boots, when Hermes showed up.

"You!" she narrowed her eyes.

Draco ignored her.

"Yes, you. Why weren't you there when I woke up?"

Professor Binns had gone to Cornwall, and had advised Draco to use his room. The tent all the men had slept in, training for the War, was now being used as a medical treatment centre and rightly so. Draco pulled off his tunic, enjoying Hermione's rapturous silence, before lying down on the bed. He wiggled around a bit. It was soft, and he was hard, hard like a...

"And that's not it! I have another bone to pick with you."

Bone?

"How could you have ordered Neville to not let me fight?"

Draco closed his eyes with a sigh. "Because you were unconscious."

"And..And, what about all that hogwash before? Right before you left? You cornered me in the castle, throwing me against a bench, and accusing myself of whoring to men? Remember that? And then you said I faced federal execution and..." Hermione paused for breath, letting out a bitter laugh. "Of course you remember, what use it talking to a blank stone?"

Hermione turned around to leave, but was stopped by a groan.

"I was angry. Give me a break!"

"_Angry?" _Hermione swiveled on her feet, grateful the argument could continue. "I could kill you right now."

"Please don't," Draco threw a hand over his eyes. "I'm still aching from last week. I got nicked in the chest, you know. It really hurts and I didn't even let a maid rub some camomile lotion into it, even though I wanted too."

"Bastard," Hermione spat. "Stop trying to make me jealous!"

"Oh?" Draco peeked out from under his arm. "So you're admitting your jealous?"

It seemed Hermione was playing him at his own game. She turned to leave the room, still decked in the standardised tunic the nurses provided, and sent a sultry grin over her shoulder. "I'll go get Lavender. I'm sure she's more than willing to help."

Draco shot out of his bed. "NO!"

He growled when he saw Hermes giggling, and realised that despite all that occurred, he still didn't know the feminine version of her name. There was so many things he didn't know. Clearly Hermes had a history before the Guild, and Draco had no idea if she was a well-to-do Lady or an over-the-mill peasant.

If she _was _a Lady, there was no way her parents will agree for her to be married to a man like him.

"How about this," Draco proposed. "Because you're so irritated about missing the battle, let's set out one here. I'm going to give a dagger, rather than a sword, and I'll fight you bare-fisted. Pretend I'm the enemy. Pretend I'm a frenchman who's come to steal you away."

"And what's the prize?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if you win, you can have the insufferable knowledge you are better than a trained swordsman, which is very unlikely, and if _I _win, you have to tell me your name."

"You already know my name," Hermione blinked.

"Hermes?" Draco shook his head. "That's not your birth-name."

"It's nothing special," Hermione muttered. "I left that person behind a long time ago."

"_Au contraire," _Draco caught hold of her first words. "It's very important. At least to me. For so long, I've seen you as a man, now, I just want to get to know the woman. Because despite what you think," he wiggled his eyebrows. "I _do _know you're a woman."

"Funny," Hermione made a face. "And I wouldn't be so arrogant if I were you. A dagger is all I need, to thwart your laughable attempts of getting into my pants."

"What?" Draco made an equally appalled face. "Me? Never!"

"Oh, come on," she rolled her eyes. "_You want to get to know the woman? _If that isn't a blatant innuendo, then I'm going to turn around, and play cards for the rest of the night with Harry and Ron. And stop whingeing about that nick on your chest. Ron's brother got his ear cut off!"

She was of course referring to George, a sibling that had popped out of the woodwork during the battle, just as finding out a girl she met in the King's Guard, with flaming red hair, was actually _Ron's sister._

It certainly was a small world.

"Whatever," Draco reached for the dagger he always hid under his pillow, and threw it towards Hermione. He grinned knowingly when she caught the handle, rather than the blade. It looked like his protegé, was finally blossoming into the feral creature she was being trained for.

_Wow, _Hermione stared down. _I actually caught it!_

Draco whistled, drawing her attention to him as he sprung out off bed, trying to circle her. Hermione held the blade out, keen to keep him in front, rather than behind her. He feinted left, towards her shoulder and Hermione reacted instinctively, throwing out the blade in a quick reflex.

He was just about able to prevent himself from gaining another nick.

"I'm tired," Draco panted.

"Oh yeah?" Hermione felt incredulous. "Then why engage me in a duel?"

"Because I find this situation slightly arousing."

Hermione let out a loud shriek, possibly sending any people in the vicinity diving for cover, as she lashed out with her own freewill, and Draco slanted his body to avoid the blow. "I thought you were tired!" Hermione huffed.

"I am."

"Then why are you not letting me win?"

"Irrelevant question."

"No, it's not!" She jabbed again, nearly sliding through his ribs. The near-miss made Hermione jerk back, and recognise how laborious his movements were. What a battle with the French couldn't do, she nearly did. Draco recognised the surprised emotion running through her, and took the opportunity to knock the dagger out of her hand.

It went spinning off under the bed, as Draco fell on top of Hermione, pinning her to it.

"I win!"

"Just about," Hermione murmured.

"Now the prize," He eagerly stared at her lips, as if expecting the answer to burst forth.

Hermione stared over his shoulder, working up the courage, to reveal her former identity. She could almost imagine being back in a tight corset, with flowers embroidered in her hair. She had been really pretty then. If Draco had seen her, he would have fantasized from afar, but never dared to approach.

"It's Hermione."

Draco frowned.

"Her-mi-one?" he said, testing it out.

"Yes."

"It suits you," Draco stared down at her. "Better than Hermes."

"Well, you would say that," she slapped his chest with a hand. "It's a girly name."

"I haven't forgotten," he teased the curls around her forehead with his fingertips, and leaned in to press a kiss onto her lips. It was different from the other times. There was charge and delicious intent. Draco took it slow, exploring the crevices of her mouth with a inquisitive tongue. Hermione breathed deeply, unconsciously pressing her breasts into his upper torso.

She didn't realise where his hand was heading, until it slipped under her tunic, and crept over her curved stomach.

It took an age for his hand to cup her breast, but when he did, she mewled into his mouth and threw her legs over his hips. His touch was pressurised and reassuring, not featherlight at all. His thumb explored her areola, as his hand kneaded and caressed her sensitive flesh.

"How does it feel?" he whispered into her mouth.

"Like you're the only man allowed to touch me," she breathed back. "I can't describe it. I'm feeling wet, and-"

"Sssh." Draco put a finger over her lips. "That area will come last."

"Why?"

"I want to see you without the tunic."

Hermione glanced down, unsure what the removal of the last obstacle would mean in terms of their dynamics. Draco was already topless, kitted out only in some pantaloons. The material was thin and loose-fitting, but she could feel a hard part of him definitely pressing into her.

She stretched her arms skywards, inviting him to take it off.

He did so, slowly, relishing the big reveal.

"Golly," he choked when it was done. "How did you manage to hide this pair?"

He cupped them again, making sure it was a decent handful, and still marvelling at the little bulge overfilling over his palms. Hermione moaned, and ground her head back into the bed, seeking relief, but looking in the wrong place. Draco waited for Hermione to answer his question.

"I used bandages, OK?" She gasped. "And loose-fitting tunics were a treat as well."

"Ingenious girl," he mused. "What a brilliant way to hide a surprise."

Hermione looked up and glared at him.

"Shut up and continue what you were doing."

In the end, two bodies became one as they reached a conclusion in the middle of the night. Draco had two scratches to join his "prized" nick, and Hermione had a healthy bite on her shoulder. The beautiful thing was, when Draco came, right there in the climax he shouted out a name that she had so carefully hidden, for so long.

"Hermione!"

**###**

"Hermione!"

Ron gaped. "That's your name? Hermione?"

"Afraid so," Hermione shrugged. "Sorry for keeping it away from you, Ronald."

"And you told that git, _first?" _He nodded at the loved-up Draco, currently loading up a carriage fit for two people. The black horses tethered to the carriage, nickered and took a bite out of the apple, Harry was holding. Hermione felt a mixture of emotions. This was the second time she was riding away with Draco, but the circumstances for this, were completely different from the first.

Back then, she wasn't even aware she was in love with him...but now, definitely, she did.

Ron spied the smitten expression on her face and scowled. At least he had Bernie. The damn pigeon had been following him around everywhere, until at last, he had to give in, and allow him to perch on his shoulder. Bernie kept cooing sweet nothings into his ear, but at least he didn't understand the randy messages.

"Hermione!" Draco called out, he couldn't stop calling out her name. "It's time to go!"

"Where are you going again?" Ron asked, curiously.

"My parents," Hermione squared her shoulders. "It's about time they got a visit from their long-lost daughter."

"Good luck," Ron nodded, handing over a small package. "Neville said to give this to you. It's just some food you might need for the long journey, although-" he added threateningly. "There's no sharing allowed, OK? This is just for you. For one hungry belly, capiche?"

"Understood, Ron," Hermione laughed. "God, we need to keep in contact."

"No problem," Ron wiggled the shoulder currently being used as a perch. "I've got little Bernie here to do the legwork."

"Of course."

Both of them gave each other informal handshakes, certain they would see each other again. Hermione left her place by Ron's side, and walked over to join Harry. He was currently watching the horses with a morose look in his eye, like he couldn't believe they were taking his friends away.

"Ron's sister is something, isn't she?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, watching him. "Listen Harry-"

"No, you listen." A hand dashed up to wipe a tear tricking down his cheek. "It's been a pleasure knowing you, Hermione, that's your name, isn't it? It seems vaguely familiar," he looked up at her. "I remember it vaguely from the stupid oaf, who came into town, looking for a missing lady."

"Sssh." Hermione cast a frantic look at Draco. "He doesn't know yet, that my parents are wealthy. I'm going to keep it from him, as long as possible, until the time comes for him to realise what nightmares lie ahead."

"That's not nice!" Harry scolded, before taking a deep sigh. "I remember the last time, I sent you off with Malfoy. What a foolish request I made. Telling you not to fall in love with him. Nothing can stand in the way of feelings."

"I appreciate it, Harry," Hermione took hold of his hand. "Everything. I appreciate everything."

"Hermione!" Draco was calling her again. "We really need to go! The cattle are going to block the road otherwise."

She shot an apologetic glance at her friend, and let go of his hand. Harry gave the horses one last resounding pat, before standing back, and watching as Draco helped Hermione into the carriage, before climbing in after her. Anybody looking, would have been able to tell something shifted between the pair. Draco couldn't stop touching her. In intimate places too, like the curve of her behind, or the inside of her wrist.

To think this man, was once the most feared solider in the land, was laughable.

"Thank you, Potter." Malfoy turned to face the downtrodden boy. "You've been a good friend to Hermione."

"And to you?"

"Ah," Draco grinned. "That's a different matter altogether. Here boy!"

He clicked with his tongue, as he held on to the reins with one hand and with the other, curled it around Hermione's waist. As they trundled past, various people came out to wave goodbye, and at one point, even link arms and do a little jig in the path the horse left behind.

The last time she'd left, she'd been excited about the journey that lay ahead, and this time, it was no different. Except this was a different adventure, one where she could possibly exit as a married woman.

Hermione tucked her head into Draco's shoulder.

"So tell me," he asked conversationally. "What's your family like?"

"We-ell, there's my mother, and my father. I also have a brother too."

"Oh!" Draco looked flummoxed. "You kept that quiet!"

"My dear brother is usually very kind to me, but unfortunately, still thinks very little of women. He thinks we're little more than servants, there to look pretty, but not offer an opinion."

"There must have been a lot of disagreements in your household."

"Yes," Hermione shrugged. "But it's something we can hopefully get over."

"Do they know about me?" Draco nervously stared out into the road.

"I sent word there was a gentleman," Hermione grinned, enjoying the panicked expressions running across his face. He looked like he wanted to jump out of the carriage, and empty his stomach into some shrubbery. Hermione didn't blame him. She had felt like that too, when she initially sent out a letter, to prepare them for the visit. "I told them his favourite occupation is sowing wild oats into their daughter."

"You didn't!" Draco pulled on the reins tightly, causing the horses to come to a standstill. "You did?" The colour drained out of his face. "But I only did it once! Twice," he amended when he saw the look on her face. "OK, twenty times since we've got together!"

"My," Hermione purred. "You're insatiable."

"It's why we have to get married, woman." Sweat beaded across his face. "We're committing sin."

"If you say so."

Suddenly, the sun in the sky was blotted by a dark, flapping figure. It winged closer and closer to where they sat, until Hermione recognised the distinct ruffle of the feathers. "Bernie!" she delightedly cried, holding out a hand, for him to land. "Look! Ron sent us a message, and we only just left!"

"Stop sounding happy about it," Draco seethed.

Hermione giggled, and undid the note hastily attached to the pigeon's leg. It looked like Harry's writing. Apparently he had sweet-talked Ron into lending the fiercely protective bird.

"It says here Voldemort is dead," she frowned.

"What?" Draco had the second heart attack of the day. "Give me that!"

He snatched the note, being loosely held in her palm and scanned the words. Harry revealed the news, shortly after Draco and Hermione left, the King sent news the assassination attempt had been successful. Snape had slunk back to the french courts, professing failure, and used that tactic to drive a sword deep into Voldemort's guts.

This immediately put the French Army into disarray, now running without a head figure.

"What? What's happened?" Hermione shoved her head besides Draco.

"It means that," he looked up into the sky. "THERE'S A NEW KING IN FRANCE! SNAPE'S KING! WOOHOO, WE HAVE A POTENTIAL ALLY! BRITAIN NO LONGER HAS TO ENGAGE IN WAR! That means," he added in a totally different tone. "We can have lots of babies."

"Draco!"

"What?"

"I need to tell you something!"

"Yup?"

"My father is an Earl."

Draco stared at her, stopping in mid-celebration.

"I'm a _Lady_, Draco. Lady Granger to be precise."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This it it. Final chapter. But I loved this last chapter SOO much, I'm adding an epilogue! Three cheers for that. So OK, I could've totally made this chapter about the war, and it's losses, and all the fighting, but THIS IS THE LAST (well, depending how you look at it) CHAPTER, so it HAD, just HAD to be dramione-based.<strong>

**.**

**A SPECIAL MENTION TO SOAPIE 7, who mentioned Henley hadn't been around since chapter 1, so I had to make him come back humourously in the epilogue! Watch this space :)**

**Geez. Are you still reading this?**

**I WANT TO THANK ALL MY READERS, YES YOU, BECAUSE YOU ARE WHAT MADE ME FINISH MY FIRST FLIPPING STORY. I managed to hit my target of 50K as well, so the sky is the limit! Lol, I should make my next target 90K.**

**I'm going to stop here (since I need to save some words, lol) but REVIEW, so I can put a final list of names up in the next chapter.**

Lots of love to: thunder2010, Luv2read20, The Beast in Repose, Hunter's Heir, TheTwoGirls, REDRydingHood, krista04, chloe, DarkRoseBlade, Hair Like Starlight and music of silence (who has very nicely offered to correct my French! Holler back, girl)


	19. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Draco was lingering outside the Earl's house, with instructions not to come inside until Hermione paved the way. Paranoia was gripping his neck, and crushing the life out of him. It felt like every man, dog and flea that walked by him was sending accusatory vibes that questioned his intentions.

"Malfoy!"

He looked up, and saw an unknown chap jogging towards him.

"Malfoy?" he repeated.

"Yes," Draco nodded, as the well-suited gentleman let out a whoop.

"It is you! Your reputation is infamous amongst the brigades. My name is Henley Granger," he pumped Draco's hand without being offered. "I'm stationed in Alaska, USA but I'm not fighting for the americans."

Draco's expression went slack, eyes darting side to side. So this was the brother, Hermione had briefed him about only hours before. What rotten luck! This ill preparation was making him look like a fool, by standing around and perspiring like a heavily bowled pig. How could he pretend to be innocent, when his sister was doing very naughty things to him at night? It didn't help they heavily resembled each other.

"I'm a sergeant," Henley prompted.

"Greetings sergeant," Draco nodded. "I trust you do a good job?"

"The very best."

"So..." Henley said, when it looked like Draco wasn't going to talk. "That's my house." He gestured at the large residence behind them, complete with thirty bedrooms and three kitchens.

"Oh," a ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "I didn't realise."

"Would you like to come inside?"

"Ah..."

"Are you here with someone?"

Henley was looking back at the road, at the horse and carriage lying in wait. A lone horseman wouldn't have needed a carriage unless he was into that kind of thing. Draco saw this as perfect opportunity to make at least a start on the topic that Hermione was probably skirting around back there. How many minutes had it been? Nearly fifty?

"Yes, actually. I'm here with my fiancée."

There was a shocked kind of silence that was slightly inappropriate, and noticed Granger was observing him with a tight line for a mouth. Henley must have known Hermione made contact - was he putting the jigsaw together, and coming to the right picture? Draco stared right back, and waited for the inevitable.

"Who is she?"

"Someone with impeccable heritage," Draco coughed.

Henley burst out into a guffaw. "Good for you! Snaring someone like that! They put on all these airs and graces, but anyone with a nose can tell they're absolutely ripe. Except for my sister," he shuddered. "Trust me, if any soldier dares to _touch_ her, my sword will slice through his manhood."

Draco blinked.

"So who is she?" Henley asked again.

"Um," Draco could feel his manhood positively shrivel up. "She's..." _Think the opposite, Draco. Someone he'll never peg. _"She's...the Countess!"

"The Countess of Kent?" Henley asked shrewdly. "Isn't she like...60?"

"Yes!" Draco cried. "That's her!"

Henley made a half-interested/repulsed face. "I guess that makes sense. She's a widow, so nobody cares if she marries again to some young buck. How is she in bed?"

"Oh," Draco tried to imagine it. "Absolutely fantastic. She might be 60, but her experience is second to none. She likes getting me in...all sorts of positions...the acrobatic the better. Um...she's trying to get me pregnant."

"What?" Henley cried.

"Mmm?"

"That last bit...say it again."

"I can't remember."

On cue, the door to Granger's house sprung open, and Hermione fled down them, holding her skirts. She had made effort to wrestle back into them with Mary's help, meeting up in a halfway Inn shortly after entering town, so her parents wouldn't reject their daughter as an imposter_. _Mary had done a respectable job. Hermione had emerged in a violet dress, and hair cascading down one shoulder.

It made Draco blink and swear.

"RUN!" Hermione was yelling, as the Earl and his Lady rushed after her. "HENLEY!" the Earl cried, spotting his son. "CAPTURE THAT MAN AND BRING HIM HERE!"

"Who?"

"THAT MAN!"

An accusatory finger was pointed at Draco.

"But...why?"

Hermione had reached Draco's side, and grabbed hold of his wrist as she went past. Draco was tugged along, as she threw herself into the carriage and dragged him after her. Outside Henley was still talking to his parents, probably informing them that they got it all wrong, and Draco was boinking a 60-year-old woman, not their daughter.

"What happened?" he grabbed hold of the reins.

"Anarchy," she grinned.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Haven't replied, but thanks to:<strong>

**Hair Like Starlight. krista04. whenallelsefail. Luv2read20. BelleMelodie. ThePsychoFairy. virginger. Guest. REDRydingHood. thunder2010. KristenHigg96. Daninicole86. DarkRoseBlade.**

**Guest: **Tamora Pierce! Song of the Lioness? I read that 7 years ago, blimey, didn't realise it was still holding an influence. I think that's why it's key to surround yourself with good literature :P

**KristenHigg96:** The epilogue is coming NOW :D

This story...was only a starting step. I didn't try my hardest developing characters or plot, which I think showed in certain chapters. Tbh, I was just focusing on quantity more than quality, something that was vital at the time. But it took superhuman effort to get this finished, and now I can focus more on being a good writer AND hitting targets. This is finished now. Time to move on.

Perhaps to another dramione, set in the 20th century :)


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